It seems preordained that Newcastle's MAXIMO PARK are rushing headlong for their 15 minutes of fame. They're already NME regulars, tour seemingly constantly and are making unstoppable waves with their sparky, Futureheads-bothering pop.
Yet somehow you just get the feeling they should make the most of it while it lasts. I can't exactly put my finger on why I feel that, either. It could be the fact frontman Paul Smith looks too like Alan Partridge to take seriously (can you believe he's actually being touted as a new Ian Curtis in some quarters? I mean - come ON). Or it could be that too often Maximo Park's enthusiastic rumble apes The Futureheads so closely they seem like contestants on "Stars In Their Eyes". Or it could be that they're just too omnipresent. Like I say, it's tough to pin down exactly, but rather like the effects of a crateload of Red Bull, there's ultimately just too much fizz and instant stimulation rather than something that lingers with satisfaction afterwards.
Debut album "A Certain Trigger" does little to allay this writer's curious lingering fears, neither. Rest assured it's tuneful, spunky and sometimes painfully NOW in its' relentless post-punkiness and does have its' moments, but somehow it's not quite enough to convince over the distance.
Mystifyingly, it's not because of one single reason that "A Certain Trigger" fails to cock properly. Yes, sometimes it's the 'Futurehead' factor as on first single "Apply Some Pressure" and "The Coast Is Always Changing" - where Smith's voice might as well BE Barry Hyde, such is the Dolly The Sheep-style similarity - but it could just as easily be because the idea of 'experimentation' doesn't sit with Maximo Park either . How else do you explain away the sodawful "Acrobat", where the drone-y premise sounds like OMD being forced to jam with the Velvets at gunpoint with Tindersticks' Stuart Staples mumbling guest vocals.
Elsewhere, there are moments where they come closer, but fall at the final hurdle. "I Want To Stay", for example, initially comes across as being the very epitome of bouncy, post-punk minimalism, but blossoms into something far more interesting just as it closes. "Postcard Of A Painting", meanwhile, is bouncy, geeky indie Motown and could almost pass as a grubbier version of early Smiths and "The Night I Lost My Head" gets away with it simply by being charmingly infectious. Not to mention mercifully short.
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All of which sounds like damnation via faint praise, though - importantly - there ARE times when you falter and think about signing up for the ride after all. "Signal And Sign", for example, is a fine opening track: fading in slowly and getting urgent within seconds, it harbours a jealous, sarcastic edge and is as punchy and memorable as they come. Recent single "Graffiti", too, still sounds bracing, infused as it is with full-pelt garage/ mod urgency reminiscent of cool,wrongly forgotten bands like The Chords, while - despite the splatchy synth sounds - "Limassol" is a bittersweet tale of love, betrayal and holiday romance, featuring Smith snarling the taunting chorus "Run along back to your new man!"
If anything, though, it's "Going Missing" and "Now I'm All Over The Shop" which sound like the pick of the bunch. The former features a clever lyric from Smith which comes full circle with the line "I sleep with my hands across my chest and I dream of you with someone else" while the band demonstrate they really do understand dynamics after all. As to "Now I'm All Over The Shop", well, anyone who can't enjoy the exuberant XTC-isms of this one is probably dead already.
Sadly, though, with "Now I'm All Over The Shop"s title, Maximo Park inadvertently write their own review. For all the bluster, exposure and glimpses of something potentially excellent, "A Certain Trigger" somehow doesn't hang together. It could be the starting pistol to fame and fortune in the near future, but could just as easily be the sound of blanks being fired in the direction of longevity.
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