BRITISH SEA POWER

With Britain suddenly starting to produce (shock! horror!) good rock'n'roll bands it has become thankfully slightly less unusual to buy a good contemporary album hailing from these fair shores. Of course, these bands are still subject to, and determined by, the arbitrary selection process of the Great British Hype machine. Bands like the Libertines, the Coral and Franz Ferdinand have been swept along in a rush of ridiculous ranting and hypocritical hyperbole. Somewhere down the line they'll either be discarded (as the writing on the wall starts appearing for the likes of the Coral) or self-destruct (the Libertines). It is, of course, a cursed blessing and one that Brighton-based British Sea Power should not be rueing missing out on just yet. Although they have not been hyped in the same way there is no real reason why this album should be immediately presumed to be inferior to, say, Franz Ferdinand's debut (although the Libertines are still top dogs, as far as I am concerned). Of course, the hype machine is not that arbitrary and some form of chart success, usually through a dinky slice of retro revisionism, is pretty much a pre-requisite. Despite the quality of this album one feels commercial success is still some way off. Of course, that is most likely a conscious decision on the part of the band. Few kids really dream of being pop stars by dressing in World War One military uniforms and recreating forest landscapes on stage. Indeed, bands nearly always have problems when playing the "zany" card, from the Pixies to Pavement, and one can see why people might dismiss them as another stupid indie band, too clever for their own good. Personally, I rather sympathise with their apparent interest in the archaic literary past - the album's artwork and title is obviously intended to represent an old-fashioned leather-bound history book. Surprisingly, though, most of what turns out to be on the album is noticeably more normal and contemporary with only a few detours into the wacky world of zany eclecticism. Indeed, the album kicks off deceptively with eerie chanting ("Men Together Today") and the off-kilter "Apologies to Insect Life" which unashamedly recalls early Pixies with its staccato rhythms and aggressive vocal/guitar onslaught. After the corrosive blur of "Favours in the Beetroot Fields", though, the album actually mellows out into a more typical indie rock album (even with more normal song titles). "Remember Me" is an intoxicating blast of pure rock power, one which demands to be performed in military gear, but the likes of "The Lonely" and "Blackout" calm things down with hushed, relaxed vocals and gentle melodies that do somewhat drift into unassuming but hardly unforgettable indie rock. "Something Wicked" does more to stake a claim in the memorable hooks department but the real success on the album is the excellent "Carrion" which is propelled along by a superb driving melody. The album does start to drag, however, with the thirteen minute centre-piece "Lately". It begins in much the same fashion as most of the other songs and one would refrain from saying it is obviously superior to them. Half-way through it then drops into a gradual crescendo, which progressively builds up with distorted, incomprehensible vocals. On the whole, it sort of feels like it is searching for some kind of dramatic peak that it can't quite find. It is hardly the worst piece of music ever recorded but it does kinda pad out the album unnecessarily, although the disarming ditty, "A Wooden Horse", that ends the album is rather nice. What with the Blur-isms that inflict Franz Ferdinand's debut and the cheeky cockneyisms of the Libertines I suppose it should come as no surprise that another of the better British rock albums released recently should also hark back to the glory days of mid-nineties indie. There's no doubt that much of the appeal of this album is potential as much as presence but it is always reassuring to see a new band come out to bat with such a solid set of tunes. Time will tell, I guess, but just because they're not on the front page of fashion magazines hardly entails the necessary decline of British Sea Power.

It is always somewhat frustrating when a rising band release a sophomore effort that shows improvement in songwriting, a more polished and distinctive sound, and greater confidence and verve and yet somehow fails to represent a marked improvement from their promising debut. The Icarus Line's Penance Soiree in particular, and Interpol's Antics to a lesser extent, both contained some blistering material that suggested the respective artists are capable of reaching the upper echelons of rock superstardom. Unfortunately, both albums then get bogged down by songs that, whilst not poor in any sense, are just too ordinary to really allow their second effort to soar above their first. Unsurprisingly, these musings are not completely coincidental as indie oddities British Sea Power returned with refreshing alacrity to the forefront with an album that both builds upon the promise shown on their debut and, unfortunately, somewhat compromises it by failing to pull itself away from a solid, if not spectacular, level of quality. The band have written their first classic song in the form of the deliciously melodic "Please Stand Up", a stately drive of pure indie pop perfection. Shockingly, the single was banned in the USA because of the line 'a little excitement makes us wetter and wetter' (seriously!) and, as a result, their chances of cracking that market with this release disappear in a plume of over-zealous censorship smoke. In fairness, it hardly made massive waves in Britain, although it undoubtedly deserved to given its superiority to nearly every other single released this year. This album does contain enough additionally impressive material, though, for it to succeed on its own terms. The album begins at its strongest with the opening trio all perfectly capturing the increased ambition, direction, and melodicism of the band. "It Ended On an Oily Stage", despite its bizarre title, is a wonderfully energetic hook-driven romp, whilst the following "Be Gone" slows the pace with its wistful reflections perfectly delivered by Yan's hushed vocals. A surprising highlight, though, is the off-kilter "How Will I Ever Find My Way Home?" with the naive, almost childish vocals of bassist Hamilton driving the song on into an unexpectedly fiery climax. The rest of the album, though, simply represents a more streamlined and polished approach to the hushed melodicism of much of the material on their debut. The arrangements are generally more thought-out, with "North Hanging Rock" being not much more than an excuse to create layers of an ambient soundscape, and the songs tighter but, other than the four highlights, nothing obviously succeeds the quality of the material on Decline. The album also ends on an ambiguous note with the dreamy "True Adventures" representing a condensed repeat of "Lately"'s anarchic deconstruction. All in all, then, a very strong indie album but, like so many of their peers, simply not enough for us to clear a space in the history books just yet, except possibly for the section on America's ludicrously arbitrary approach to censorship.

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Email me at: jackfeeny@yahoo.co.uk