Many bands at similar points in their career – a clutch of cracking singles supported by a succession of stellar live shows, resulting in a clamour of press acclaim and a rapidly expanding fan-base – would cobble an EP’s worth of material together with the singles and bang out a debut album that summarised their career to date. Everyone’s happy: there’s product on the shelves, the band get to tour the album to the fans and newcomers who already knew half the songs anyway, and then... well, yes, what then? Small wonder so many bands struggle with second albums, given that really, they’ve never sat down and penned an album as an album.
Post War Glamour Girls aren’t ‘many bands’. They released the clutch of singles, put the EP out as an EP and followed all that with the debut album. I also understand album number two’s already written. The early singles were dropped from the live set long ago. They’re a band who are constantly on the move, restless, pushing forward and testing themselves. And getting better all the time.
Don’t for a second think their prolific work rate is indicative of rushing and a sacrifice of quality. What we get with ‘White Fur’ is an album that feels like an album. A great album, at that: it’s urgent, passionate, packed with musical and lyrical twists and turns that arrive unexpectedly. As much as they like to challenge themselves, they’re happy to challenge the listener, too. And herein lies one of the great strengths of the band, and of ‘Pink Fur’. It’s not lacking in hooks or choruses, but it isn’t all easy-going chirpy pop. In fact, for all the nagging guitar lines and bouncing bass riffs, ‘Pink Fur’ is dark, bordering on bleak at times. There are bursts of noise, and at times it gets heavy. And as for pinning it to a genre.... well, yeah, it’s ‘alternative’. But alternative what? Alternative to what? Well, pretty much everything, as it happens. Post ar Glamour Girls are all about detailed and attentive songwriting, sharp lyrics and yet however many comparisons you chuck at them, none quite hit the mark: they really are in a field of their own.
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It all starts with established live favourite ‘Sestra’. ‘I just want something to talk about,’ Alice pines sweetly before James blasts in on fine ranting form and firing in all directions, ‘we are all to blame!’ he roars from the bottom of his gut. There’s fire in his belly, alright. Musically, it’s a succession of explosive crescendos woven together with some glorious chiming post-rock intersections, a fifteen-minute epic compressed into six minutes of blistering intensity. And there are still nine more tracks to come.
‘Service Station Blues’ is a solid, stomping, thunderous sonic road trip of a song with a nagging guitar line and balls like melons. ‘Lightbulb’ brings a hint of XTC to the dark Nick Cave-seque croon to create a brilliant sliver of post-punk pop. ‘Scatter my ashes by the coffee machine’, James bawls on ‘Jazz Funerals’, a track that merges chiming post-rock, jangling indie and a post-punk fury in a reflection of postmodern angst. The album’s closer, ‘Brat’ is a radical reworking of ‘Sestra’ that bookends the set perfectly. Brutal, epic and choral, it fully embraces the band’s more theatrical elements and makes for a faultless finale.
Put simply, it’s a killer album: the instant hooks grab at first listen, leaving little earworms that compel repeat listening, and there’s still plenty of depth and nuance to make it a real grower as well. And for all of that, it’s hard to flaws on any level. An unequivocal triumph, ‘Pink Fur’ is an album to get excited about.
Post War Glamour Girls Online
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