No Frills Reviews

A relatable ode to belatedly coming-of-age in the tradition of great British pop

Five years on from their debut and after almost a decade together, there’s a risk that the London duo of Joey Bradbury and Rowan Martin have gone slightly under-appreciated amongst the ubiquity of the Sprechgesang-style (talk-singing) that has emerged around them. Bradbury’s vocals may initially trick you into thinking they’re just another group jumping on that annoying, snarky spoken-word trend that won’t seem to die. But it’d be a mistake to dismiss them (as I almost did). Firstly, they’re not pedalling dull post-punk. And crucially, the vocals here feel completely natural; this isn’t pretentious dorks being deliberately blasé and cosplaying as down-to-earth, it actually sounds down-to-earth. Plus they’ve been doing this before it was really trendy.

Produced by Bill Ryder-Jones (who has already dropped an early AOTY contender himself), The Rhythm Method’s second album delivers everyday insights, alongside self-deprecating humour and nostalgic references which will resonate with the 90’s kids out there. But it’s much more than a trip down memory lane, offering surprising depth along the way.

I have to make a Mike Skinner reference as is obligatory for any British act doing sing/speak tunes with even the vaguest hint of hip-hop influence. There’s some of the magic of those early Streets albums present on Peachy. But whereas Skinner captured young adulthood in 00’s Britain, this captures something of what comes next; with adulthood replacing young as the key word of that phrase. While there’s no overt concept or narrative, there’s almost an aging or maturation happening throughout as the album gradually becomes burdened with heavier questions.

Although I’m trying to hype the grander themes on display, the beauty lies in how casually they’re delivered. You’re lured in with fun, lighthearted nostalgia in the opening tracks, with references to King of the Ring 98 and Keenan & Kel. And Nightmare might be the best covid song yet, focusing on the bizarre mini crises that time inspired; like the conundrum of finally having the excuse to do nothing, yet feeling like this was the golden chance to be super-productive and re-invent yourself.

But the mid-night-out realisation of “we’re too old for this shit” on Dean Martin is almost a symbolic turning point. Starting with the anthemic Have A Go Heroes, the album’s second half slyly shifts gears to focus on bigger concerns. Them as mid-30’s musicians pondering whether the dream is still worth chasing. Suicidal ideations. Or coming to terms with adulthood in all its glorious mundanity.

They tackle all this in a profoundly British way, with humour undercutting or enhancing the gravity of it all. There’s literary references delivered almost apologetically – “I only heard of Edgar Allan Poe from that one Halloween Simpsons episode” – like a nod to our fallibility as so much knowledge is tied to the culture we consume. And elements of tragi-comedy; there’s a reference to the goal of being on the NME cover, the sad part isn’t that they haven’t achieved it, it’s that the dream has basically already disappeared from under them (yeah, I know NME is still a thing…but it’s not really).

The musical backdrop is also sneakily diverse. The most carefree music comes in the early moments; there’s hints of Baxter Dury in the light jazz-funk of the opener, and I Love My Television is classic British indie-pop in the vein of The Housemartins or Lightning Seeds. The mood segues into dreamy synth-pop; when Martin takes over vocal duties on Have A Go Heroes you could easily mistake it for a Pet Shop Boys classic; there’s a musical grandiosity that elevates the stakes at crucial points. The country jaunt of Dean Martin sees their tales of touring and nightlife mirroring old western characters. And the gentle fingerpicked folk of Black & Blue closes the album with bittersweet beauty.

Peachy is a real statement album, while never striving too hard to make its statements. It’s swimming in melancholia, yet subtly uplifting as it reflects on relatable feelings for us adults that aren’t quite as young anymore, about time slowly creeping up on you. It doesn’t have to find the deeper meaning in that. The recognition and acceptance of it is powerful enough.

Best tunes: Nightmare, Dean Martin, Peachy, Black & Blue

*Same, on the Edgar Allan Poe Simpsons thing BTW

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