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Mystery Jets - Twenty
One
The first Mystery
Jets album was brimming with potential but
weighed down by pretensions and affections
that didn't really suit them, no matter
how quirky they were as a band. Hailing
from Eel Pie Island and featuring father
and son Henry and Blaine Harrison, the Mystery
Jets had a bunch of decent singles with
wonderful names like You Can't Fool Me Dennis,
but when it came to album Making Dens they
struggled for an identity, something that
Blaine has since admitted: "I love what
we did on Making Dens, but it's almost like
we were wearing other people's clothes on
it. It was really just a collection of songs
that we'd been playing live - we were young
and we didn't really worry about how it
was going to hang together." Other than
questioning how young a band with your dad
in it can really be, it's refreshing to
see a musician admitting mistakes, and thankfully
Twenty One is the sound of a band fully
focused on their strengths and cutting out
all of the problems. Part of the weakness
of Making Dens was that the Jets were just
a bit too enveloped in the 'London music
scene', and it was all just a bit too phoney,
and they have ditched some of those Cockney
quirks here to make an album that is cohesive
and fun from start to finish. Replacing
the prog-rock affectations that didn't suit
them before is a more relaxed approach that
takes in slightly less 'cool' influences:
"Basically one of the few things that we
all agree on is Michael Jackson, especially
the stuff produced by Quincy Jones. We're
all loving 80s power ballds too. Bruce Springsteen's
Dancing In The Dark. Phil Collins." Most
of that, and particularly those last two
words might strike fear into the heart of
any self-respecting indie fan, but fear
not, because Twenty One doesn't sound like
Phil Collins, but nor does it sound like
a poor man's Pink Floyd either. Part of
the reason for the shift has to be the sidelining
of Henry Harrison, who is no longer a part
of the live act even if he still contributes
to the writing and recording. With the younger
members to the fore, Twenty One is full
of great exuberant songs like recent single
(featuring Laura Marling) Young Love and
the wonderful Flakes. The Michael Jackson/Phil
Collins influences are not entirely obvious
other than a generally poppier approach
to production and choruses, with edgy indie
guitars still very much to the fore, even
if they occasionally go a bit U2, like on
MJ. Ironically, it has taken a more youthful
approach to help the Mystery Jets come of
age, but the effect is very welcome and
this is a very good album.
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The Whip - X Marks Destination
The Whip could hardly be more Mancunian if they made an album calling 'We're From Manchester We Are', so it's no surprise to find that their debut album is full of references to great Manc bands before them, most notably New Order and Happy Mondays. Bruce Carter and Danny Saville have been here before of course, with Nylon Pylon, who were also linked to New Order at every turn, and some of their songs survive with The Whip, most notably single Sister Siam. The comparisons to Sumner, Hook et al are something so obvious that they hit you in the face, as with Frustration, which couldn't be more NO if it tried, but at other times The Whip sound worryingly like someone like Reverand And The Makers, like on opener Trash, which also brings to mind Body Rockers. Not a good comparison if you want to be taken seriously, but Carter's gruff vocals and simplistic lyrics don't help. This is the problem that The Whip have, because when they sound too obviously like they are ripping off their hometown's musical legacy, they are opening themselves up to criticism, but yet that is also when they sound at their best. There is more than that to them of course, and Save My Soul is a pretty decent slow-paced electro-pop song while early singles like Divebomb and Muzzle #1 are excellent dance tracks. It's hard to know entirely what to make of The Whip, mainly because they don't seem to know entirely what to make of themselves. There's so many influences here and too little real cohesion, which makes X Marks Destination a fun if frustrating listen, but if they can build on it, there's still potential for them to be the kind of great Manc band they want to be.
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David Garrett - Virtuoso
If I ruled the world, anyone who did a cover of You Raise Me Up would instantly be thrown into prison, along with anyone who used it as cheap 'emotion' music in a reality TV talent show (Simon Cowell and Louis Walsh would skip prison and go straight to hell), so David Garrett is skating on thin ice even before you get to the 'David Beckham of the violin' references and the not-entirely-modest album title. But still, even impossibly talented and good-looking people such as he can have misfortune, so you've got to wince slightly to hear about a costly fall he had while performing at the Barbican in London last December, where he broke a 1772 Guadagnini violin that had cost him $1m a few years ago. Ouch. It's being repaired at cost of £60,000. Anyway, born in Germany to an American mother, he's a former model/child prodigy violinist (can't be many of them in the world can there?) and Virtuoso shows him utilising his good looks and undoubted talent to full effect. As you'd expect, there is a mixture here designed to attract the most punters possible, with slushy pop like You Raise Me Up mixed with famous classical tunes and even a Metallica cover (Nothing Else Matters, not Creeping Death, sadly). One of the more gimmicky tracks is a version of Duelling Banjos from Deliverance that sees his violin duelling with a guitar, but to be fair it does work well as does the energetic Csardas - Gypsy Dance. There's many reasons for disliking this album on first glance, but Virtuoso is actually a very fine classical album for people who don't buy many classical albums. There's enough familiarity here to make it very pleasant listening for anyone, even if some of us want to start breaking stuff when the sweeping blandness of You Raise Me Up gets into full flow.
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