SKINT &
DEMORALISED – THIS SPORTING LIFE (HIT OR HEIST RECORDS)
The second album from
Skint & Demoralised is a certified romp that arrives after a number of
dramas and devices such as split and reformation, unreleased albums, re-release
dates and general major label hijinks.
As a result naming the album after a kitchen sink drama isn’t so
conceited as a person might imagine.
Skint &
Demoralised is a bleak duo hailing from Yorkshire. Their initial success was driven by a self started online
campaign benefiting from times before Myspace sucked itself whole and turned
shit.
The concept was
easy. Matt Abbott a feisty young
northern poet would unleash his rhymes as his mate Mini Dog (I shit you not)
would add the tunes and backing tracks.
And initially it was good, a lowlife but high brow version of spoken
world detailing adventures and a lifestyle that was interesting and
tangible. Unfortunately then came time
to turn it all into a band and offer themselves as indie.
With the transition
the words have become more lyrical and now mostly sung. In other words, it has all gone a bit
normal. All remains very normal but the
backing now feels slightly hack, generic indie rock in an irksome fashion. Part of me suspects someone in a suit sat
behind a desk somewhere suggested this all in the hope of tapping into the
Arctic Monkeys audience and vibe. Am I
being too cynical?
Well, perhaps not when
the original suggestion was potentially of an Arab Strap from Wakefield but
instead ultimately what is served sits in some Embrace cum Doves
territory. There is suggestion of a Smiths
type appreciation for existence (not least in the kitchen sink references) but
the execution feels not fully formed.
Fuck a duck.
At this point that
band has already broken up once which kind of causes me to question their
commitment to the cause. Is there much
longevity let in this act? No doubt
while they remain signed they’re soldier on.
Music wise you would
be forgiven for expecting something different.
Now gone full on indie there is a strange, retro sound to
proceedings. It probably won’t thrill
them for me to report opening track “Hogmanay Heroes” makes me think of The
Wonder Stuff. All in all there feels a
desire for the anthemic but unfortunately rarely is it reached (or even
required).
As the record gallops
on tracks such as “The Lonely Hearts Of England” have a weird Pogues vibe in
their euphoric gallop as drunken nights are celebrated in blind fashion as if
“Tubthumping” had not been delivered with irony. Maybe it’s a northern thing.
I thought these guys
were angry about signing on? Where’s
the edge?
Thesaurus moment:
injudicious.
