HIGH BIAS -- lead review

THE CORAL
The Coral
(Deltasonic/Columbia)
THE MUSIC
The Music
(Capitol)
Remember back in the 60s when pop music faced a British Invasion? Is it over yet? A cheeky comment, to be sure, but let's face it: great British bands touch down on U.S. shores all the damn time. Admittedly, few of them hit the big time with such consistency as did groups like the Who, the Zombies, the Kinks and, of course, the Beatles did in the 60s. But that doesn't stop the flow of artists from Poor Old Mother England staking a claim to their piece of the rock & roll dream, a vision that in the popular mind includes American success. Bands from Status Quo to Slade to Pulp would argue that latter bit doesn't much matter, but popular perception still thinks a British band hasn't made it until they conquer the colonies. Whatever. Regardless of whether it's true or not, American major labels continue to plunder the ranks of the English rock brigade, looking for the potential next big thing to throw up the pop charts. The Coral and The Music are the latest recruits in the march to defend crown and country.

The young men in the Coral—six Liverpudlian dudes ranging in age from 18 to 21—revere the sounds of the original British Invasion, or at least its era. The band's self-titled debut album is steeped in the sounds of the psychedelic 60s. While certainly hi-fi enough not to sound out of place in contemporary times, the production has a dry quality, free of artificially-induced reverb and radio-ready sheen, giving the performances a much more intimate quality that major releases these days usually get away with. The sonics are deliberately nostalgic without trying to sound old, no mean feat. (And one just as likely to alienate as many listeners as it attracts.) Loud but largely effects-free guitars (just a bit of tremolo and mild distortion here and there) carry the songs, with a solid rhythm section and some gently trippy Farfisa organ for color. Bassist Paul Duffy and guitarist Bill Ryder-Jones add horns on occasion as well. Singer/guitarist James Skelly has a melodic voice just rough enough around the edges to give him the kind of soul of which Steve Marriott was capable at his best. It's an instantly appealing sound to a certain variety of rock fan, the kind that still longs for the past but wants to buy records by new groups. It would all be just another case of unwanted neohippy piracy if not for the songs. "Dreaming of You," "Waiting For the Heartaches to Come" and "Goodbye" are perfectly formed, melodically varied, beautifully performed little pop songs, appropriate for the hit parade of any era. "Skeleton Key," the peppy "Bad Man" and the folky "Simon Diamond" indulge in the kind of catchy psychedelia of the long lost Syd Barrett, from his warped pop sense to his whimsical lyrics, and compare favorably to that notable's best. "Shadows Fall" grafts its 60s pop sense onto a heavy reggae rhythm for an unusual tune that sounds unbeholden to any era; the unnamed bonus track just goes straight for the skank. Otherwise, the record sticks to its old-fashioned psych/pop groove. The Coral could easily, maybe even justifiably accused of being a bit too obsessed with a past its members are two generations away from experiencing first hand, but ultimately its songs are simply too good to support such carping. [buy it]

Leeds' bright young hope The Music is a fish of a different fin. Less tied to a specific period, these fresh-faced lads (like the kids in the Coral, teens when they started the band) cherry-pick different sounds from different pop eras for a style that, if not exactly original, at least sounds fresh to jaded ears. Simply put, on its eponymous debut the quartet puts a hugely scaled tower of swirling, distorted guitar wash over booty-shaking dance beats. When put so bluntly, the concept makes the band sound like the million other guitar acts of various nationalities that jumped on the dance/electronica bandwagon, but The Music sets itself apart from the pack. For one thing, there are very few touches of actual electronics (the stuttering cuts at the end of "The Dance" being a notable exception); the rhythm section is entirely powered by bassist Stuart Coleman and drummer Phil Jordan's handmade grooves. Besides, six-string maven Adam Nutter never lets you forget that this is indeed a guitar band; he fills every inch of space allowed him with riffs, fills, chords, solos (occasionally—to his credit, Nutter is no wanker) and effects, quite capably establishing himself as the backbone, ribcage and brainstem of the band. Frontman Robert Harvey's febrile wail consistently inhabits the very top of his range, as if he can't decide between anguish and exhilaration. If he often pushes his vocals into incomprehensibility, that's probably appropriate, given the often goofy lyrics in tracks like "Turn Out the Light" ("Baby baby baby/Bye bye bye-ee-aye" ain't gonna win any poetry awards, lads.) It's an intoxicating wall of sound, so heady it's easy to overlook the fact that the songs are barely there. The melodies have just enough structure on which to hang Nutter's pyrotechnics, and one suspects Coleman and Jordan would drag any tune onto the dance floor regardless of intent. "Float," "The People" (which boasts a near-lethal intro consisting of razor-edged guitar and a "Shaft" drum pattern) and the single "Take the Long Road and Walk It" whip up feverish storms of rock excitement, massaging the parts of the brain that control hipshaking, feet shuffling and air guitar strumming without coming close to the heart-touching or brain-twisting areas. No big deal, really; it may be merely ear candy, but it's impeccably produced, enthusiastically performed ear candy. Besides, The Music is a young band yet; its songwriting acumen may well catch up to its sonic mastery, in which case, watch out. [buy it]

Will the Coral and The Music barrel down the highway to U.S. chart success? Will they match the level of notoriety they've reached in the U.K.? It's doubtful either group much cares, and besides, financial and popular success is no measure of an artist's musical worth anyway. If either of these bands, or any of the many others (the Darkness, British Sea Power, the Libertines) waiting in the wings, sounds remotely appealing, don't hesitate to give them a try and stage your own British invasion. Michael Toland

For fans of:
The Coral: Love, Lucky Bishops, Syd Barrett's Pink Floyd
The Music: the Stone Roses, Kula Shaker, Thee Hypnotics