For English Indie Fans
Maggie Anne MardyBum | Washington, D.C. | 07/23/2008
(3 out of 5 stars)
"The friendship between Miles Kane, of The Rascals, and Alex Turner, of Arctic Monkeys, formed when the Rascals opened concert dates for Arctic Monkeys, and their collaborative `side project' as The Last Shadow Puppets, raised high expectations for The Rascals' first album, "Rascalize," as did the two earlier, and superior, EPs ("Suspicious Wit" and "Out of Dreams," the title track of which is repeated on "Rascalize"). Sadly, these expectations are not met, but then few bands are likely to meet or exceed the brilliance of AM and TLSP.
Nonetheless, the Rascals are worth a listen. Musically, they are a fine addition to the Liverpool/Manchester/Sheffield post-punk/indie landscape. The three man band delivers a big, solid sound that is often darkly atmospheric and at various times psychedelic, "wall of sound" punk, surf-punky and twangy. There's enough variety across tunes, and tempo changes within them, to keep the music fresh and interesting across all twelve tracks. Miles Kane has a good voice and beautiful enunciation; the charming accent he displays in interviews comes through in his singing (it always puzzled me how the Beatles sounded so Liverpudlian in interviews, but sang with little apparent accent). I love the way he bites-off his t's (but no where on this album does he top himself as a Shadow Puppet singing "biting butter and crumbs") and one can positively hear sneering irony on the "I'll give you Sympathy" track.
Where The Rascals disappoint is in the unevenness and somewhat formulistic nature of their lyrics. The lyrics generally evoke a dark, sullen, and cynical outlook, and show little of the seemingly sincere and good natured warmth, wit, and intellect that Mr. Kane displays in interviews. Except for "Bond Girl," there's little of his cheeky charm in evidence on this album. There are, however, quite a few clever lines ("and knocks them off, one by one, using his wit like a gun" on "Fear Invicted Into the Perfect Stranger;" "jilted in conversation I drowned into her looks, appealed to the ground" on "I'd Be Lying to You," and "holding the stutter in his hand, carving his words to demands" in "Freakbeat Phantom" are just three of many examples). Unfortunately, none of the songs deliver impressive lyrics throughout.
Worse, there's a formulaic quality to the structure of many of the songs: repeat a phrase, repeat a phrase, repeat a phrase, a phrase, a phrase, repeat a phra-a-a-a-a-a-ase, a phra-a-a-a-a-a-ase, repe-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-eat a phrase! The title track (and, in my opinion, the least interesting song on the album) hits the repeating phrase, "All aboard for our [/the] adventure" barely 30 seconds into the song. (The album might have been more truthfully opened with the song "So it repeats" from the "Suspicious Wit" EP.) Although the stretching out of phrases shows Mr. Kane's considerable vocal skills (as does some beautiful, almost 50's-ish "ooh"-ing on the excellent "Freakbeat Phantom" track), it quickly becomes gimmicky and distracting. The track "I'd be lying to you," however, shows that they can keep repeating lines under control to enhance, and not dominate, a song's lyrics, and I hope their future song writing moves more in that direction.
The stylistic device of ending a song with a truncated repeating line works beautifully on "Out of Dreams," where, after hearing the line "where all of this might end" numerous times, the song ending catches one by surprise with "where all of this might." The silence where one expects to hear "end" is a powerful, dramatic ending. Unfortunately, the impact of this ending is cheapened by using the same "trick" ending on "Freakbeat Phantom" (after many repetitions of the line "I'm holding on," the song ends with "I'm holding") and on the otherwise interesting "Stockings to Suit" (where the repeating line "what else could I do" is truncated as "what else could I"). Because of the too-frequent use of repeating lines and "trick" endings, I fear that that the 4th track, "The Glorified Collector," with its "you're a parody, a parody, a parody of yourself, you're a parody, a parody, a parody of yourself, of yourself, of yourself, of yourself, of yourse-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-lf" is prophetic. I hope The Rascals' future albums don't fulfill that prophesy.
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Track Listings (12) - Disc #1