Saturday, April 04, 2009

Nightvision
As The Lights Go Down
Rocksector
As the resurgence of everything eighties continues with all the indecent haste of a Stalinist firing squad so does the tendency for bands to plunge into the mainstream melee and thus achieve mere meandering status. Built on the sturdy buttresses of usual suspects such as Maiden, Metallica, GN’R and Queen it quickly takes you into a realm of despair at the landscapes bereft of true inspiration that it proudly opens up to you. Sure there’s melody and soaring vocals – by numbers - and some chug-thrusting guitars but it’s all too redolent of a Ford Mondeo advert (because the name conjures Nightranger?), too clinically concise and it generally drifts past on gently undulating waves of bluster that aren’t too clued up about where or when they’re going to come to a rest or what shop to go into first nor which unruly tyke to tell off beforehand. The sound and spirit of those bands above is largely, or, let’s be blunt, massively absent in this. Some may take the side that this indicates a sloughing off of such childish affairs as influences. Though from this rickety seat, rest assured that it does mean that this is sorely needing the single, slight but massive in scope, spark of individuality to shake it’s main above the parapets It’s not terrible and will no doubt succeed on a smallish scale, though one large enough to prove me wrong. It just doesn’t do very much at all never mind go anywhere, and never mind again it actually convincing the listener to divest some attention in their direction. That will then, I suspect, serve to embolden my misanthropy into ever greater mires of curious condescension and quizzical incomprehension at the audience awaiting with barely acknowledged baited breath for bands brandishing such bland, banal, bread knife music. Then again, look at pretty much any mass appeal – many a slight appeal too, for that matter – band and try not to come to a sociopathic conclusion. Dull as several decades of dishwater from the dampest, dirtiest, down at heel drablands of Dewsbury. Class dismissed.
Stu Gibson

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