It's been some time since I heard an album that wore such obvious influences on its sleeve. All Day Sucker - terrible name, isn't it? - might just be the most contrived band in LA at the moment. And that's saying something considering the reputation of that fair city.
Morty Coyle - a much better name than All Day Sucker, I think you'll all agree - and his band of proxy session musicians have apparently been 'making waves' (© the press release) throughout the US for several years, feeding on the scraps left for them by BFFs Maroon Five and gaining acclaim from a trail of local newspapers and C list celebrities.
The eponymous opener on 'The Big Pretend' synergises Elvis Costello and Brian Wilson into a neat little riff on the West Coast surf sound. Sadly, what follows shows this to be misplaced enthusiasm on my part. 'Life in the Passing Lane' offers some respite before much of the rest of the album descends into a territory well-claimed by their buds Maroon 5, Jack Johnson and has-beens Sugar Ray (remember them?). A place where surely even angels fear to tread.
Call it what you want - generic rock, soul-rock-pop, rock-by-numbers....the whole thing sounds like a bad collection of songs written solely using Apple Garageband and its free sample packs. Guitar licks and riffs drip with cliche, vocals move up and down the scales in the style of a million other wannabes, drums beat out a worn and familiar beat. There ain't nothing original going on here. It's a cynically-contrived production and nothing more.
And the lyrics? Oh boy. 'Santa Ana' begins by asking 'How can anybody get along these days/with everyone going their own separate ways?'. Erm yes, how indeed? As usual, we get the same tired sentiments - everybody needs to slow down, love will save the world, she's so crazy, why can't I keep her....does this all sound overly-familiar and make you want to run for Beachy Head?
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Sure, on their own terms, All Day Sucker might have a good thing going for them. I'm sure as big fish in a small pond, they'll continue to carve out a successful local career while holding down day jobs as barman, web designer, cycle courier or tree surgeon, eventually hoping for a late-in-the-day resurrection of Anvil proportions. 'Nobody Somewhere' talks of a girl 'sitting at a table/abandoned by the major labels' and that 'fame is a rain cloud you follow around'. It's a curse they might have to get used to.
My mother always told me never to walk out after an argument or go to bed angry so I'll end with some positives - it's not completely awful. Almost but not quite. The sole stand out 'Beverly Park' rides in on a klezmer beat with a George Martin orchestration and shows what All Day Sucker might actually be capable of when they align their influences with their ability and something original pops out. Too little, too late mind you but it's passable fare when taken in exclusion from the rest of the album.
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