Review: Bad Line by Reticents

Bad Line
Reticents (Paul Hamilton, Gavin Murphy, Andy Thomson)
www.reticents.co.uk

My first introduction to UK band Reticents (not "The") was their 2007 disc OOJIMAFLIPS, which was passed to me by their drummer, Paul Hamilton (co-editor of the book HOW VERY INTERESTING: PETER COOK'S UNIVERSE AND ALL THAT SURROUNDS IT which I reviewed in UATW 4). To my considerable relief (well, it's always nerve-wracking evaluating friends' works) it was a brilliant CD, chock full of witty lyrics and catchy hooks. From the opening paean to football superstar George Best ("Even at my very worst, I'm Best") to the hypnotic buzzing of "Bee Sting Lips" and the touching heartbreak of "Old Timers' Disease," the disc rocks and rolls and works its words into the brain like a cheap drug. The DIY-look cover did the project a slight injustice, suggesting a slapdash approach that the music's craft belied.

Their latest CD, BAD LINE (2008), couldn't be more different in that respect. The cover images are arresting. The candy-slick red makes the black and white pop and the faux underground map provides a novel way to convey the writing and production credits. The whole project is more sleek than the previous efforts, providing a step up in production values and all-around sound. From the clanging chords of "If Only We Could" that open the disc, it's a fast ride that clocks in at about 35 minutes, but still satisfies. A lot of this is due to the rambunctious tone of the music, from the callous "Nothing Personal" to the clanging "Hall of Blame" and "Blue Shirt," the latter a spirited attack on our tendency to overlook the person behind the uniform ("How would they know? They merely flirt / Let's put our hands in the fire -- let's get burnt") and features some really brilliant drumming.

I have a soft spot for "Carrier Bags," a tribute to "gentleman of the road" Bronco John, the panhandler who nonetheless hung out with the likes of Peter Cook and Peter Sellers. The grinding guitar opening is a perfect accompaniment to the well-knit words conveying the lost life of this iconic tramp, who slept rough yet died with £5,000 in his carrier bags:

The lampposts are bending over
They're listening to what I say
Eyeballs in every letterbox
Watching, hoping I'll walk away

Following this upbeat downbeat song with the plaintive power chords of "Who Needs Luck?" seems to imply "everyone" (and fair enough). The guitar clangs much more on this third CD than the first two; "Missing Person" even finds a plaintive note in the grind as they wail through a tale of every parent's nightmare. If you begin to suspect there's a connection here -- yes, it's true. Visit the band's website and you'll find a link that reveals the narrative behind the songs. While this is an example of the oft-dreaded "concept album," there's no reason to fear. The teen narrator's disjointed tale isn't essential to appreciating the disc, but it amplifies the connections, in particular augmenting the sequence of "I'd Dial for You"/"They Died with their Phones On," which link together a surprisingly melodic barrage of ring tones and improbable rhymes ("multiple sclerosis" and "deep vein thrombosis") into an effective collage. While it always reminds me of the Paddington crash (news stories reported how phones rang in the wreckage for days afterward), it also speaks to the distancing and isolation that ubiquitous communication has not bridged. Like the spoken word cut "The Long Haul" on OOJIMAFLIPS, this sequence pushes the boundaries of what 'mere' pop songs can be and signals a band ready to take chances with form and expectations.

The CD ends by revisiting tunes: a softer acoustic version of "I Got You All Wrong" introduces a note of melancholy missing from the initial version and a sassy reprise of "Nothing Personal" with female vocalist puts the callous shoe on the other foot. If this leaves you with a slightly depressed feeling, I think that's deliberate, although a trifle unfortunate. I find myself at times preferring OOJIMAFLIPS to BAD LINE, despite its more uneven qualities, because I'm a sucker for good lyrics and I think those on the former CD are better or perhaps simply more playful ("If you love me blow up Parliament / raise an army, bring down the government. / Take me where the rainbow ends / and buy me an ice cream cone"). There's also a deleted first CD, GRASSHOPPER, which has perhaps the most blisteringly vitriolic break-up song ever, "Happy Birthday to You," which features the refrain "Enjoy the present, return the past / Happy Birthday, darling -- I hope it's your last." This is a band that does bitter very well.

Great lyrics, catchy hooks, and three CDs in as many years: there's a lot to like here from a band with a winning sense of humour and plenty of ambition. Visit their website or MySpace page for lyrics, photos and a couple of goofy-fun videos.