Rocketsmiths, The - Meet Horace and Clyde (EP)
» The Rocketsmiths announce east coast shows - July 24, 2008
I have a lot of trouble giving criticism to a band.
Sure, in my head I make all kinds of crazy and potentially offensive judgments but no one is getting hurt because they don’t know what I really think of it. And especially when it comes to music, how can you justify slagging of someone else’s poetry and soul when all of their emotions have gone into it just because of my opinions alone?
Oh sod it.
I really did not like this EP whatsoever. Though the title of this six track record refers to The Rocketsmiths drunken alter egos, it really sounds more like they are the drunks themselves. As I listen I imagine in my mind tank a couple of slack jawed yokels slurring out a load of bollocks between each swig of cheap alcohol.
Track three on the EP is called “A Good Example of a Cliché Love Song.” Was the title trying to justify the fact that it is a cliché love song? A terrible one at that? No one can jump around to it because of its slow and staggered beat, you can’t chill or relax to it and there’s no way in hell I can believe that someone would dream about there beloved whilst absorbing it into their ears.
It seems on “Fake Vegas” we have a little country experience that seems very old fashioned for my own personal tastes, and the rest of the tracks are minimally bearable. It’s the sort of music played in a bar that is great in the background but any louder and the dor would look very inviting. The songs lack the depth and substance that a music lover needs and craves. It reminds me of Baileys and Milk. It has a bit of flavour hanging on for dear life in there, but there’s no kick, no buzz, and no banging headache in the morning because you rocked out so much listening to all night.
To be fair, they have tried hard and it paid off because the sound is tight, not messy and doesn’t make me cringe as I listen. There’s a lot of effort, which is evident, and they have a crapload of talent, which I respect. But I’m not digging it. Digging it requires a shovel, and the noise has neglected to give me that, not even a small spoon to enjoy it in minimal amounts.
They have been praised by media about their unique style and sound and have been showered with wonderful contradictions such as “hip but totally uncool” and “energetic yet restrained.” But to be honest, it’s not my cup of tea, coffee, tap water or even rainwater.
Sorry lads, but I’m yet to be impressed.
