Having had the odd reservation or two about Coeur‘s previous effort, due to the ever so slight sound-alike aspects of it to a certain outfit fronted by Dave Gahan, the band have done the entirely correct thing and ignored all that and ploughed on in a similar fashion.
Admirable in a way; no one ever got anywhere by giving two hoots about what a critic thinks.
And, brushing aside any vague plagiarism / influenced by concerns, it’s not half bad: suspend your drumming fingers and unsureness and it’s quite a jolly romp; electro… guitars… moodiness… ‘s’all there and a step further down the slightly derivative timeline.
It pulses along in an autumnal way – without any drippines though: autumn has always been the season for long nights of forbidden pleasure and not dreary moans about fallen leaves; it means throwing shapes in the dark and these boys supply that on ‘Every Drop Of Hope’ for example; that title should send a shiver of dismay to the right thinking mind but it’s actually a groovy beast.
As is ‘Ceasefire’ up next; it may have too much of a darkly wistful eye on the past, but it’s still an arse-wriggler – as should be.
In fact the whole piece progresses with ever more thump… and more’s the better for it; ‘British Empire’ [timely] is the highlight and does away with over-earnest yearning and heads straight to the dancefloor.
This seems a fecund direction for the band to exploit, because this is where they come alive; if you walked into a bar and heard this you’d have two seconds of, “Wow, this does sound quite a lot like Depeche Mode”, then skid straight into, “Fuck it, it’s good”.
And for all the concerns Danny Davis – one half of the two piece alongside Scott Burns – does have a great and powerful voice; a voice that pushes the tracks along, as much an instrument as conveyor of thought.
Better that than drifting along the top (or lurking underneath).
There’s real talent here: this is a step forward and there is proper and powerful character waiting to burst out.
In the meantime… progress, and enjoyable progress at that.
Words: Vosne Malconsorts
