The British music press hype-cycle has gotten behind a number of bands in recent memory, from well-known successes like the Arctic Monkeys and Klaxons to a few, well, stinkers (The Vines, The Von Bondies). With a new “saviour of rock” crowned seemingly every month, it’s hard to approach Glasvegas, British rag mag NME’s latest darling, with anything other than skepticism.
Released in the UK in September and seeing a U.S. release date at the beginning of this month, Glasvegas’s self-titled debut shouldn’t be dismissed for getting praise from all the wrong places. The young group has crafted a strong album that brings to mind all the right comparisons in all the best ways.
The most obvious association may be to Scotland’s own Jesus and the Mary Chain—from the girl-pop melodies to the noisy take on Phil Spector’s wall-of-sound to the standing drummer—but the best comparison may be to Ireland’s best export outside of Arthur Guiness: U2.
Just as, in his halcyon days, Bono could turn any subject into a sweeping sing-along, Glasvegas frontman James Allan turns every subject he touches into an anthemic call-to-arms. His straightforward, blue-collar lyrics at times seem loutish or awkwardly direct (see: “My name is Geraldine, and I’m your social worker” on “Geraldine”) but more often put us heart-wrenchingly close to his protagonists.
Glasvegas, just like Oasis and their Britpop peers, speak for/to/about the working class and the at-times troubled life of working class youth. Both “Go Square Go” and “Polmont on My Mind” cover this ground, with the former a bildungsroman centered on the age-old rite of passage for young men to physically assault each other, and the latter its aftermath.
The best track on the album to touch on blue-collar family life, however, is “Daddy’s Gone,” which straddles the line between awkwardly and touchingly direct. And though the story of a son without a father may be well executed, it’s the music that deserves the most praise here; “Daddy’s Gone” displays Glasvegas’s diverse palette of Ride-esque shoegazer guitars Phil Spector drums punctuated with beach-side doo-wop breaks.
If that sounds a little overwrought, that’s probably because it is. But if U2 stopped being worth your time 15 years ago, it’s time to find someone else to fill that spacious, reverb-filled hole in your heart.
Voice’s Choices: “Flowers and Football Tops,” “It’s My Own Cheating Heart,” “That Makes Me Cry, Daddy’s Gone”
