(from CWSY#8, Feb '02) / home / reviews index
The Lucksmiths
'Why That Doesn't Surprise Me' (Fortuna Pop!)
To say an Australian pop record sounds airy and relaxed would possibly
be to propogate stereotypes... but this record does remind me of the
Go-Betweens.
It's not so much the style of playing lovelorn songs in an upbeat way, the comparisons to the Smiths, or the fact they're both from Oz. It's that crisp production from which you get every instrument ringing clearly, here introduced well by 'Music to Hold Hands To': the bassline plodding, but in a jolly kind of way, the drumbeat slow but measured, the old strummed acoustic and a string section as the vocals change tone... oh yes, the vocals, letting go the most delicious joy in wordplay heard since Morrissey's heyday, with not a whiff of popmposity or put-down-ery, just a glimpse into other people's lives: "you can't keep a secret but you keep a diary anyway, and you get away with murder cause you've got a way with words." I could quote the whole album.
The majority of songs are from guitarist Marty Donald, but singing stand-up drummer and bassist Mark monnone aren't restricted by normal band roles and also spin a skilful rhyme ("I don't know the difference between you and the weather / You covered me in dust and wet me through;" and 'Don't Bring Your Work to Bed'). Of course, you'd be msiing something by just poring over the sleeve. Though the album sounds relaxed, its very quality indicates hard work. Almost everything sounds just right. Songs charting the end of relationships, "at the arse-end of another century", have their mood lifted by brass and handcalps; the more upbeat numbers are calmed by melodica, and every female backing breath is in the right place.
Then there's the shaker throughout 'How to Tie a Tie', its soft solo ttrumpet acting as foil to the flurry of brass on 'Self-Preservation', easing you into the almost-painful, clarinet-clouded 'All the Recipes I've Ever Ruined.' Yes, near-perfect tracklisting too...
'The Year of Driving Langorously' could be a title from those 'Four Lads That Shook the Wirral', Half Man Half Biscuit; but the way it combines that reel pun with real feeling makes it the perfect album closer. A keening violin points out the bittersweet mood in the jangle: "Where the hell do we go from here?"
Off to check out just who these blokes are...
