THE VICTORIAN ENGLISH GENTLEMENS CLUB

We live in a world where everyone is striving to find the "next big thing". Well in a way, The Victorian English Gentlemens Club will never be the next big thing . They're a little too arty, they're a little too loud and they're a little too, well, weird. But if the likes of Jo Whiley or Zane Lowe really had a clue about "discovering" and promoting new music, this is the kind of thing they would champion.Just for the name alone they're worth a listen, but there is so much more to love about them than that. This is a record jam packed with spiky riffs, memorable chorus' and its all rather thrilling.Within one listen, the likes of My Son Spells Backwards will be lodged in your brain reminscent of any of Franz Ferdinand's catchier moments but with a harder edge. In fact the first ten minutes or so of the album show more invention spark and wit than most albums manage in total.There is also the male/female vocal tricks (with the women seemingly interjecting simply when they feel like it) which I so love, but rarely ever is used by anyone these days (the likes of The Von Blondies aside). Its funny, witty and whilst "eccentric" would also be a good description the tunes are never lost.Granted, it doesn't always work, but when it does, well when it does it's impossible to resist. All at once playful but sinister, fun but dark, this eponymous album. If only the rest of it was a thrilling as the first three tracks we'd have a classic on our hands but the rest only sees a slight downturn in quality so it's still as near as damn it a classic. As it stands there is still much to admire and enjoy. For the lazy there's so many points of reference (Gang Of Four, The B-52's, Devo, The Breeders) but don't let that detract from the fact that they've quickly established their own unique identity and sound.This is quite probably the best album this year that no-one will ever hear. But you'd have to ask the afforementioned Whiley & Lowe about that.

My musical relationship with VEGC started at a Dogs gig in sunny Stoke-on-Trent back in the depths of 2005. They appeared as a loose, raw amalgam of the Pixies, Wire and Elastica, but with some really solid pop songs, and a quite frankly brilliant drummer.Fast forward twelve months and three singles later, and the album arrives. The songs are still indie-pop, short and sweet, but somehow it doesn't work stretched out over an album.Don't get me wrong, songs like 'Hermit Mark' and 'My Son Spells Backwards' still shine and rattle. The problem comes with others like 'Impossible Sightings Over Shelton', it's over complicated and it just doesn't fit the style of play. Also, sometimes, the likeness to other bands is a little too audible... on 'Dead Anyway' you can almost hear a lawsuit coming from the Pixies! Elsewhere, the bass is fresh and upfront, and there is some truly great drumming.Live, there is an interplay and drama between the three band members, and this doesn't really come off on record. Adam Taylor's schizoid scream is still evident, and this is backed up with the Kim Deal-esque smooth wail of bassist Louise Mason. It's the tightness of Mason and drummer Emma Daman that really holds the record down, and stops the angular guitar scratchings from sounding too light and distant.Overall, the record is worth a listen, and they are a band to keep an eye on. The highlight 'The Tales of Hermit Mark' is a gem, and remains one of the singles of the year, but sadly the album is too hit-and-miss to follow in it's footsteps.

Just the kind of yip yip sounds I like - a few listens and you'll be hooked. But then what would I know - I liked Huggy bear! Much more interesting and fluid than Los camposino's and one of those born too late bands (a few years back and they would have been lauded)...enjoy oh music lovers

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