Silver Tongues - Black Kite
Silver Tongues’ debut really felt like they wouldn’t disappoint; a stomping intro with some claps, a little funeral organ in “Highways” and interesting but familiar texture to the thing - a bit like David Sylvian/Japan - except sung a little off; showing not inadmirable weakness. Then I realise it’s not really Japan being channelled here, it’s Matchbox fucking 20.
The lyrics sink in - or rather run off me like my noise receivers are ducks backs; yes the sentiments are so worn that I feel that in fact the pace of EVOLUTION has outstripped them.
“If you look around from your warzone/ somuch Loooo-uh-oOOOOOO-ve to be found”
As I said, not quite kept up with our web-footed friend there.
A U2 pastiche drops by (although, let us be honest as we’re friends, U2 are beyond any parody at this point) and stadium rock from the basement is rarely appealing. Thankfully it if brief and at least, in that, an exercise in damage control.
I feel a little like I’m listening to a karaoke cover album of late-80’s-through-to-2001. A bit like when you listen to Gomez’s “Shot Shot” and think of how good Kid A is by Radiohead…
Michael Stipe even turns up. It’s actually a fairly good punt at it and you just feel that if these guys stopped trying to be so boringly earnest and instead focuses on the 2.45 pop song with hooks and big chorus’ that this could be a Maroon5 2.0 contender.
Their best chances are holding on to parts of their repertoire, like stand-out track “Wet Dog” which is a bit like early Elbow covering a MJ B-side and, frankly, discarding everything else they hold dear.
