THE DUKE LISTENS TO
PRETEND YOU'RE ALIVE
BY LOVEDRUG
PRETEND YOU'RE ALIVE
BY LOVEDRUG
Terms like “original” and “innovative” and “unique” are banded
around with a worrying lack of restraint these days, when it
comes to the critique of the popular music. I mean, how the hell
original can a fella be when he’s playing the self same chord
sequences that Leadbelly was fumbling with a century ago? Not
very, is what The Duke would assume.
Often, passion and intelligent production are mistaken for the
innovation. However wonderful that first Strokes record may have
been, there weren’t a damn thing original about it. It just
sounded different to most of what was on the radio at the time,
is all.
The question is, should we chastise a bunch a folks what play the
rock n’ roll just cause they sound like a thousand other such
acts?
Lovedrug, a four-piece rock outfit what peddle the melodic,
soaring balladry and also the melodic, soaring anthems and the
melodic, soaring combinations of both, will never be accused of
anything so heinous as originality. The songs contained within
the pretty packaging of Pretend You’re Alive manage to, at best,
induce memories of The Hives and Brit-Pop nearly-heroes Gene, and
at worst sound like a slightly heavier Coldplay, producers of
such memorable classics as That Song From The Trailers and That
Song From The Adverts On Telly.
Sadly, it’s the latter bunch that Lovedrug so desperately aspire
to be.
There is, however, at least one element what sets these cats
apart, if only by a couple inches. Vocaliser, Michael Shepard,
would appear to be something of a find. Although his voice is
often mauled by the hideously predictable production shenanigans,
when it gets a chance for to shine, it emerges as an endearingly
pained warble that on occasion seems to be transmitted via a
mouthful of spit.
Shepard’s lyrical malarkey, though, leaves much to be desired.
His scribblings often concern themselves with the “big issues”,
like The God and The Love and The Drink, but often end up
sounding like an especially melodramatic outburst from an over-
sensitive High School student.
I mean, shit, man, The Duke, too, was an over sensitive High
School student one time, but I moved on, evolving, to become an
over-sensitive critic of the popular culture instead, the point
being that you need to stop writing about “Crawling with these
worms / You’re afraid of all their germs” and concern yourself
more with inappropriately inserting the word motherfucker into
every other sentence.
Pretend You’re Alive isn’t a dull record, per se, but yet, for
all it’s energy, it rarely inspires anything but an appreciative
nod.
It’s just kinda bland, is all. Sure, the tunes are catchy, the
whole thing is technically accomplished and what-not, but the
same applies to most everything else in the top 40.
Maybe that’s the point. Certainly the title track could
conceivably go ahead and dent the old Billiard 100 or whatever.
Overall, though, it’s disturbingly monotonous. There’s no spark,
no thrill about it all. It’s generic middle-of-the-road
Alternative Rock, a term what used to mean stuff like The
Butthole Surfers and Primus, but now means songs about the
“demons” and a bit of the old distortion here and there.
On the likes of Pandamorama, a wonderfully-titled burst of garage-
rock what clocks in at two and a half minutes, Lovedrug suggest
that something worthwhile could be around the corner. Sadly, the
notion is betrayed by the embarrassment of soft-rock noodlings
surrounding it.
It’s a debut album that has no want for confidence, and it’s
obvious that the fellas can write a tune. The problem lies not in
how similar these tunes are, structurally, to those crafted by
most every other bunch of emotionally-vexed Gap-Ad-Fodder, but
lies, in fact, with how few risks Lovedrug are prepared to take
elsewhere. It reeks of safe, inoffensive, market-led calculation,
and whilst it will no doubt find favour with fans of that fella
what’s married to Gwyneth Paltrow, anyone hoping for a genuine
rush of blood to the head, heart, or anywhere else, will be
sorely disappointed.
And if The Duke has got it all wrong, then go ahead and record
something that proves it.
Thanks folks.
Drop The Duke A Line
around with a worrying lack of restraint these days, when it
comes to the critique of the popular music. I mean, how the hell
original can a fella be when he’s playing the self same chord
sequences that Leadbelly was fumbling with a century ago? Not
very, is what The Duke would assume.
Often, passion and intelligent production are mistaken for the
innovation. However wonderful that first Strokes record may have
been, there weren’t a damn thing original about it. It just
sounded different to most of what was on the radio at the time,
is all.
The question is, should we chastise a bunch a folks what play the
rock n’ roll just cause they sound like a thousand other such
acts?
Lovedrug, a four-piece rock outfit what peddle the melodic,
soaring balladry and also the melodic, soaring anthems and the
melodic, soaring combinations of both, will never be accused of
anything so heinous as originality. The songs contained within
the pretty packaging of Pretend You’re Alive manage to, at best,
induce memories of The Hives and Brit-Pop nearly-heroes Gene, and
at worst sound like a slightly heavier Coldplay, producers of
such memorable classics as That Song From The Trailers and That
Song From The Adverts On Telly.
Sadly, it’s the latter bunch that Lovedrug so desperately aspire
to be.
There is, however, at least one element what sets these cats
apart, if only by a couple inches. Vocaliser, Michael Shepard,
would appear to be something of a find. Although his voice is
often mauled by the hideously predictable production shenanigans,
when it gets a chance for to shine, it emerges as an endearingly
pained warble that on occasion seems to be transmitted via a
mouthful of spit.
Shepard’s lyrical malarkey, though, leaves much to be desired.
His scribblings often concern themselves with the “big issues”,
like The God and The Love and The Drink, but often end up
sounding like an especially melodramatic outburst from an over-
sensitive High School student.
I mean, shit, man, The Duke, too, was an over sensitive High
School student one time, but I moved on, evolving, to become an
over-sensitive critic of the popular culture instead, the point
being that you need to stop writing about “Crawling with these
worms / You’re afraid of all their germs” and concern yourself
more with inappropriately inserting the word motherfucker into
every other sentence.
Pretend You’re Alive isn’t a dull record, per se, but yet, for
all it’s energy, it rarely inspires anything but an appreciative
nod.
It’s just kinda bland, is all. Sure, the tunes are catchy, the
whole thing is technically accomplished and what-not, but the
same applies to most everything else in the top 40.
Maybe that’s the point. Certainly the title track could
conceivably go ahead and dent the old Billiard 100 or whatever.
Overall, though, it’s disturbingly monotonous. There’s no spark,
no thrill about it all. It’s generic middle-of-the-road
Alternative Rock, a term what used to mean stuff like The
Butthole Surfers and Primus, but now means songs about the
“demons” and a bit of the old distortion here and there.
On the likes of Pandamorama, a wonderfully-titled burst of garage-
rock what clocks in at two and a half minutes, Lovedrug suggest
that something worthwhile could be around the corner. Sadly, the
notion is betrayed by the embarrassment of soft-rock noodlings
surrounding it.
It’s a debut album that has no want for confidence, and it’s
obvious that the fellas can write a tune. The problem lies not in
how similar these tunes are, structurally, to those crafted by
most every other bunch of emotionally-vexed Gap-Ad-Fodder, but
lies, in fact, with how few risks Lovedrug are prepared to take
elsewhere. It reeks of safe, inoffensive, market-led calculation,
and whilst it will no doubt find favour with fans of that fella
what’s married to Gwyneth Paltrow, anyone hoping for a genuine
rush of blood to the head, heart, or anywhere else, will be
sorely disappointed.
And if The Duke has got it all wrong, then go ahead and record
something that proves it.
Thanks folks.
Drop The Duke A Line
