Compared to the recently reviewed (though later released) Fish Tank EP this is a plinkety plonkety, more chilled affair from the Ullapool (possibly) based act.
I say possibly because it’s not exactly been easy finding info on these scamps; then again, who cares?
Could be phoning this one in from Pluto for all that it matters; important thing – is it any good? That’ll be a yes.
I’m not entirely sure why it’s a yes but from stimulating impromptu desires to descend into a lounge bar in sixties Soho to the sleaze funk of highlight ‘Conversation Shaper’ it’s all pretty irresistible.
Self Charmer has a sparkle and wit surely tossing a knowing and challenging wink in our direction.
Opener ‘Brother Lung’ begins with a ripple of applause and some keyboards giving the impression we’ve just tuned into a Bob Monkhouse special.
A lounge jacket quickly donned, you’re prepped for some smoky anecdotes and even smokier grooves.
The showbiz is sadly absent, but we do get a collection of gentle, often Gallic sounding, tunes pulling us sedately along the mental Champs Elysees; a collection of fifteen, this is tasty stuff.
Certainly more at home bringing one back to life on a sunny morning after the night before, than sound-tracking the debauchery itself but hey; no bad thing.
Ambient vibes occasionally give way to friskier moments; half way through ‘A Milky Way’ you’re resisting the urge to Cha-cha-cha; playful but urban.
If I had a cigarette holder I’d be stuffing a Gitanes in the end and watching cafe culture through the open window.
Note: elegant continental life in this case played by a sparrow clinging onto a branch in the gale and a pissed off squirrel with a sou’wester on.
There’s a pleasingly incongruous anachronism about the goings on here; I swear we’re in Oom-pah territory at one point.
I would ponder this more but when the countryish (bordering on Hawaiian) guitar of ‘The Feed’ comes in all bets are off; time to just sway along with the flow.
It’s all gleefully impervious to expectations and, over and above the clubbier sounds of Fish Tank, there’s a live band feel about things (though containing enough electronic rumbles and squeaks to leave you in no doubt what year we’re in).
To say music is sound-tracky is an appallingly overused observation but in this case it’s true; moody, eccentric, playful, flyer in the face of its musical surroundings.
Plus it’s got a song called ‘Dipsomania at the Indoor Night Out’; actually very very good; coupled with some rude honks here and there what more do ya want?
One to be listened to in a space suit whilst blowing smoke rings at Simone de Beauvoir and dreaming of a brighter future gone by.
Self Charmer by All the Queen’s Bovine
Words: Andrew Morrison
