THE SINGLES' leader Vince Frederick is on a mission. A familiar one, perhaps, but like The Ramones before him, it's a noble one: his brief being to re-instate the sheer rollicking thunder of rock'n'roll and capture some semblance of the spirit and energy that the likes of Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly brought to the table in those far-off decades before corporations took over.
Thus, his power trio The Singles' second album 'Start Again' arrives sounding unashamedly retro, with its' Anglophile leanings worn like neon patches on its' sleeve. But then so what? Hell, if you're gonna make a classic power pop album you might as well get your credentials right, so full marks to Frederick and his cohorts - bassist/vocalist John Hale and immortally-named drummer Brian Thunders - for choosing Ghetto Recorders in Detroit and in-house producer Jim Diamond, who, lest we forget, were both previously responsible for riotous records by the likes of The Sights and The Dirtbombs.
So if you're after Balinese nose-flute samples or Radiohead-style experimentalism, turn up your collar and walk away, because stylistic envelope shoving ain't high on Vince Frederick's agenda. However, if you've still room in your heart for a deliriously well-executed power pop album with energy to spare and a daring Anglophile bent then The Singles will soon be inveigling their way into your psyche with their lovelorn, (mostly) sub-three minute shag grenade pop songs.
'Start Again' houses twelve of these nattily-attired blighters. Yes, the band's love of all things English and mid-60s is easily apparent on songs like the classy, Beatles-meets-Kinks (circa 'Til The End Of The Day') melange of 'When Will She Be Mine?' and 'Goodbye Little Girl', but even when it gets blatant - like on the thinly-veiled 'All Day & All The Night' cop of 'Hypnotized' - it's done with enough love and adroitness to see the band through.
|
Besides, you can cavil all you like at my Noel Gallagher-esque "if you've got the songs you've got the songs" stance here, but frankly The Singles DO have the songs. In spades. However much you might wanna dismiss them, there's no denying the power of the gritty guitars, betrayal-tinged vocals and cymbal-heavy, Moon-style drum clatter of songs like 'I Want You Back Now' and the bittersweet, romantic shimmer of the potentially radio-bustin' 'Summer'. As for the REALLY REALLY T-Rex-y bit in 'The Most Beautiful Girl'...well, one can only remember the old adage about genius stealing and simply marvel.
There's more, of course, and The Singles' net is wide enough to trawl for groovy delights like the 12-bar, Dave Edmunds-style 'Cryin' Over You' and even inject the odd cheesy synth bit like on the Cars-bothering 'Love Is Just A Game', but however easy it is to play spot the reference (and it is), The Singles play it so straight and with so much skill, panache and energy that your reviewer's usual forward-thinkin' dude standpoint seems so redundant that capitulation seems the only available response.
Besides, Little Steven Van Zandt is on record as describing The Singles as "my favourite new band" and it's a foolish man who gets into a dispute with a senior member of 'The Sopranos', right? Yeah, right. Capiche and all that.
|
