No Frills Reviews

BIG SPECIAL POSTINDUSTRIAL HOMETOWN BLUES

The debut album from Birmingham duo, BIG SPECIAL brings together the grim and the glorious. Like many bands before them, they offer a commentary on modern Britain; which usually means state-of-the-nation politicising or slice-of-life tales of relatability. But they don’t quite do it like anybody else. This is a wide-screen vision of small-time encounters. It’s everyday mundanity wrapped in the language of epic poetry.

Frontman, Joe Hicklin, is a powerhouse; a preacher who’s never particularly preachy. Despite the bouts of bombastic poetry, he’s more prone to self-deprecation than self-satisfied grandstanding. From emphatic to brooding to unhinged; his creativity and charisma shine through. He’s as much Bruce Springsteen as he is John Cooper Clarke. And that’s not to understate the work of drummer, Callum Moloney. The driving force in the background; from the rapid-fire onslaught on opener, BLACK COUNTRY GOTHIC, to the marching band thump of SHITHOUSE.

There’s a real versatility sitting beneath it all. Soulful electro-punk is my bite-size description for their particular brand of genre fusion, but the deeper you dig into POSTINDUSTRIAL HOMETOWN BLUES, you’ll discover blues-tinged Americana, dreamy synth-pop, spoken-word minimalist ambience, and much more. This sense of musical movement echoes the conveyer belt of emotional states they put on display; where bold cathartic bursts can emerge from the bleakest moments. Best demonstrated as the album culminates with the triumphant DiG!

One of the key takeaways here is just how BIG this album sounds. It can be bleak and surrealistic but it also, quite simply, has some absolutely huge choruses. It’s a bold, celebratory affirmation that all this weird and seemingly inconsequential shit that happens in our lives still means something.

Best Tunes: BLACK COUNTRY GOTHIC, TREES, DiG!

American Culture Hey Brother, It’s Been a While

The tale of co-singer/guitarist, Michael Stein’s struggle with heroin addiction that left him homeless and close to death mirrors the chaos and confusion of its subject matter with an eclectic mix of hazy and hard-hitting rock. From ethereal shoegaze epics, to Stone Roses-esque neo-psychedelia, to Hold Steady-style heartland-rock. The album is a blur of contrasting emotions; mired in moments of despair and a creeping sense of despondency. But it also managers to capture the beauty rescued from the struggle; the love, humanity, and hope that stayed alive whether a redemption was ever going to come or not.

Best Tunes: Let It Go, Survive, What I’d Do

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Honourable Mentions

Lip Critic Hex Dealer – The New York band’s debut is a glorious wreck of glitchy electronica, industrial noise, and hardcore punk. Punishing, a bit annoying, but often exhilarating.

Jessica Pratt Here in the Pitch – Dark and mysterious baroque folk-pop, illuminated by Pratt’s magnetic, otherworldly vocals.

Lemoncello Lemoncello – The soothing harmonies of this Irish duo pierce through eerie atmospherics, punctuated by ominous cello and mesmerising finger-picking. Their debut is another welcome addition to the current renaissance of traditional folk.

Kings Of Leon Can We Please Have Fun

I’m not really sure what the title is pitching for here because, other than a couple of genuinely banging moments, this really isn’t exciting enough to be considered a fun album. But it’s also nowhere near interesting enough that the title could be read as ironic. It’s the same problem Kings of Leon have had for a long time now, they’re stuck in the middle. They’re still aiming for the stadiums, but with the occasional nod to their rockier roots, and a vague sense of maturity that mostly just translates to dreary.

The production here is the real highlight, everything is crisp and sounds pretty great. The issue is that too many songs bask in moody contemplation, and the Followill clan really aren’t good enough songwriters to be doing moody contemplation. The line in Nowhere To Run of “There’s a war outside, we should all get high” may have worked if there was any sort of coherent message following it, but amongst a load of garbled nothingness, it just feels massively tone deaf. Caleb often croons meaningfully like he’s dropping profound wisdom, but when the actual lyrics veer from absurdity to tedious cliché, it simply doesn’t warrant all the melancholic grandeur surrounding it. Although it does lead to some entertaining drivel like “While giving fate a chance, I split my favourite pants, And backed out of the chatroom”, which does kind of rule.

This is a solid enough album (depending on your tolerance for daft lyrics), but it’s too dull to really be fun. It lacks the singalong anthems of their biggest moments, and the raggedy charm of their early work is largely absent. If they ever want to be a truly fun band again, then they really need to stop hogging that middle lane.

Best Tunes: Nothing To Do, Hesitation Gen

Lightheaded Combustible Gems

Apologies for the slightly meta approach to this write-up, but I’d jotted down some half-articulated thoughts about Lightheaded that I decided to share:

80’s synth-pop futurism merged with airy dream-pop fragility. The lo-fi jangle of 80’s indie, with the cosmic edge of 60’s psych-pop. The deep brooding vocals of Nico meet the nonchalant cool of Kim Gordon. The wide-eyed innocence and sugary-sweet melodies of the Beach Boys with undercurrents of melancholic yearning reminiscent of post-punk miserabilists.

Now, perhaps I’m just being lazy not constructing that into something coherent, but I felt like it kind of captures the vibe you’re getting with Combustible Gems. Like a personally crafted cut and paste collage of great eras through pop history. But, you know, the slightly weirder parts. The New Jersey trio have delivered a debut that wears its influences proudly, while turning them into something only recognisable as their own.

Best Tunes: Dawn Hush Lullaby, Bright Happy Girls

Brògeal Brògeal EP

I mentioned earlier that there’s a bit of a renaissance in traditional folk happening at the minute. Well, Falkirk’s Brògeal seem intent on injecting a punky Pogues-y spirit into the mix. On their second EP (the follow-up to 2023’s Dirt & Daydreams), they deliver 20 minutes worth of tunes that feel intensely personal and localised, yet also like they’ve been getting passed down for generations.

Beginning at its most traditional, Roving Falkirk Bairn lays down the manifesto for a nomadic travelling man set against a grand Celtic ballad which builds to a foot-stomping singalong. More contemporary influences become apparent as they go, with hints of the raucous energy of classic Libertines on Witchy Emerald Eyes and Girl From NYC. While closer, Fly Away, carries the anthemic swagger of mid-90’s Oasis. Beyond the big choruses, they also show they’re no slouches in the songwriting department with Hill is High telling a tale of growing up amidst a backdrop of sectarianism (it still has a pretty decent-sized chorus as well, mind).

A band with one foot rooted in the past, but too much dynamism to get stuck there. Expect big things from these lads.

Best Tunes: Girl from NYC, Fly Away