Loathe as I am to echo the sentiments of the spuriously ageist NME, it's difficult to disagree with their ongoing hyperbole about this particular gang of youthful whippersnappers from Merseyside.
Because, put simply, "The Coral" is a sparky, sparkling and bizarre debut album,featuring more twists, turns and chicanes than 50 laps at Silverstone, while still retaining more hooks than a meat factory.
Few records cover such an incomprehensible amount of bases so thrillingly, but "The Coral" does so in style and makes it all look ridiculously easy. However weed-addled singer/leading light James Skelly may reputedly be, he's come up with 11 remarkable tunes here.
Let's start at the beginning. "Spanish Main" is only an introduction, really, albeit a dramatic one, driven by the call of the sea and adventure. "I Remember When," though, goes through so many changes it's dazzling. It's got a mad, TOM WAITS-style barked chorus, crazy MADNESS-style ska charges and louche verses...staggering. The single "Shadows Fall" you'll probably already know, but must revisit: all reggae basslines, skankin' rhythms, organ stabs, ragtime interludes and a fascinating Eastern tinge. Sublime.
"Dreaming Of You" and the recent single, "Goodbye" act as something of an oasis of linear calm. Well, almost...the former cements the Madness connection, welding a bouncy, Nutty Boy rhythm - catchier than the clap - to some mordant Scouse wit, while "Goodbye" is altogether more hard-edged. Some groovy, early KINKS riffing leads us into three-way harmonies and the sort of no-nonsense melodicism that (for once) makes sense of those lazy LA's comparisons. At least until the TOWNSHEND-style powerchording and psychedelic aftertaste kick in.
On the other hand, tunes like "Simon Diamond" and the closing "Calendars And Clocks" veer off at different tangents altogether. "Simon..." is full of classy gibberish lyricism and builds to sound like the weirder, mushroom-induced moments from the "Nuggets" box set, with a side order of GORKY'S. It also brings in the genius, Scouse-inspired "Dar'll do" chorus towards the end. "Calendars And Clocks", meantime, owes a heavy debt to classic Brit psyche (ancient strain), with congas, trippy rhythms and tremelo guitars giving way to some crazy, two-step weirdness and eventually folk-heavy harmonies creep in and surround you.
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Elsewhere, THE CORAL prove how adept they are musically with the scary, Beefheart-isms of "Skeleton Key". Potty rhythms abound, vocals foam at the mouth and the only (remotely) contemporary comparison that springs to mind is THE SOFT BOYS' "Old Pervert."
Overall, "The Coral" suggests that even to expect the unexpected barely prepares you for the brilliant, wayward sonic spills seeping from within. In fact, apart from perpetuating the peculiar seafaring lyrical bent that seems to encapsulate Liverpool's finest (see also SHACK and, yeah, THE LA'S), this band are a splurge of vivid technicolour all their own design.
"Why do I listen to sad songs? To make me better whan I've done wrong" mourns Skelly during "Waiting For The Heartaches." That's strange, because, in my mind, neither he nor his band put a foot wrong here. Where THE CORAL go from here is anyone's guess, of course, but for now they sound unclassifiably good.
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