The concept album is a much derided medium and for good reason – bombastic epicry on a usually hideously self-indulgent subject; you know, my dad died in the war; my girlfriend left me and i’m skint; the martians are coming and i’ve got a deadline in two hours. Actually, scratch any kind of destructive criticism aimed at that last intimation; it rocks, and we all know it. But concepts of late, though still hideously self indulgent, have been getting a bit grimy, a bit urban. The Streets’ Mike Skinner reclaimed the concept of err, concept for a younger, hipper (etc) generation and opened the flood gates for hoodies in trackies to enjoy the finer points of Yes and Rush. Alright, maybe not.
Trip (aka Alex Child) has taken the idea of the urban concept album and pushed it a bit further. No longer is the concept just a story arc but an adaptation, of sorts, of the film ‘Short Cuts’, only this time the action takes place on Holloway road in a series of vignettes or snapshots of life, love and death in North London. Imagine if you will The Streets meets Robert Altman meets Jim Cartwright. Hmmm. Fairly ambitious.
The stories range from the naive slushiness of songs like ‘Applecheeks’ and ‘Rented’, through the risque and ridiculous of ‘Laundromat’ and ‘Olympic Breakfast’ to the tragedy of ‘Go Away’ and ‘Breathe’. Tunes are a brisk mix of indie pop guitar riffs and electro pop synths with the beat remaining constant throughout. The songs are snappy and crisp but never quite give you a whole picture – this is speed dating the lives of others, not a sit down affair. What occurs to the characters afterwards is anyone’s guess.
Music and size aside, the success or failure of the album comes down to one thing: Trip’s ability to wax lyrical. Fortunately, he comes up with the goods most impressively, chucking in half a dozen blink and you miss it pop culture references of a principly eigthies and nineties nature (“I lost my cherry to the solo in ‘November Rain’” is probably my favourite) and keeping the rhymes and lines witty and creative (“when it comes to the Joneses, she prefers Indy to Bridget,”). He also manages to have enough songwriting skill to write a decent chorus too (the simple refrain in ‘Rented’ of “you’ve rented my head out” hits the nail right on the head). The only critique would be that he can tend to gush when it comes to the ladies (“strawberry jam” tasting lips and all that) and again does suffer from a bizarre lack of attention in his stories. Maybe that’s the point.
This aside, it’s a pretty decent debut. ‘River Phoenix’ stands out as a great little single, ‘Who’s That’ bad mouths Noel Edmonds and when you end the album with a list of things that are ‘bollocks’, well, you can’t help but chuckle. Like the film, there’s something here to please everyone, though it may be over quicker than you wish. A cheeky little concept sampler; let’s get a bit more in depth.
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