(from bumblebeetree, Jan '03) / home / reviews index
The Dawn Parade
- 'Caffeine Row EP' (Sugartown Records)
Described somewhere, possibly by themselves, as "the most Englishest
band in England," the Dawn Parade are of course coming from a part
of the country which allows them to be proud of that quote, closely
linked to the Cambridge/Bury scene that has also brought forth the angry
mintfresh Miss Black America. As literate young men same as MBA, the
Dawn Parade are also by definition angry with the world, but like little
Miss's elder brothers they've replaced unaffecting anger and bile with
gentle persuasion to transmit their points and offset their guitars.
On record it's possible that this can seem pompously earnest, but live
their attitude's down to earth, punching to climb high... they have
posture, but also have cool. It could have been 'Caffeine Row' that
was introduced as, "this is a song about hope, a word that, like
love, doesn't seem to mean much anymore...". Even the cynical stude
can't resist that roll of drums rushing to catch guitars' power and
pace, and while the singer should take care on the verses not to drawl
too much like Stereophonic Kelly Jones, the chorus is much more soaring,
closer to the Morrissey in someone else's car he might like to be ("leaving
the road, little darling, and dying in your arms"). 'Wider
than the January Skies' is as in love with every perfect fault as all
of this spiel might suggest and transmits that idealistically open feeling
perfectly, though 'Fairytale Rehab' seems a little bit too thought out...
better to take that ugly inspiration, and to make it fit by running
with it.
