Everybody Talks About The Weather is the first new album by 90's indie act the Yummy Fur in over 25 years, the original core trio of John McKeown, Brian MacDougall and Paul Thomson who recorded the album at The Workshop in Glasgow, the album was mastered by Mikey Young.
The album opens with Cogs a frantically insistent indie tune for someone whose tough to talk too, his fears about acid rain and bad cocaine, who's in a bit of a mess on the edge of a meltdown and how you deal with it.
Unity Over Europe can it ever happen, and what would it look like if it did, this looks at a goal that has been discussed and plagued Europe for over a thousand years, I'm not sure they have any better answers for who should be top banana, while fighting the Valkyries and buzzing them with guitars, trying to wake up Diana in her English garden.
The single Wanda is about the only film Barbra Loden ever made back in 1970, this is a love letter to that particular film and era of film making, can they capture the weird edge that Hollywood had in the post Manson world, in the middle of the Vietnam war, with society on the brink, I wish I knew the film they are singing about, this sounds quite cool and evocative.
Semolina Ballerina sweeps across the speakers with some grace and no signs of stodgy school desserts. Explanations of where life would lead that ballerina, from the stage to her post dance career in that canteen, dreams changed and life moving on.
Blue Sunshine might be what they are hopped up on, slightly frazzled guitars celebrate the feelings Blue Sunshine brings to them. Fast forwarding through various colour-blind adventures, when they find your photo on a bathroom wall you don't want your photo found on.
Everybody Talks About The Weather slows things a touch, while reflecting how no matter who you are, we all bond and talk together about The Weather, over sparse guitars and almost dubby percussion they skip about, trying to avoid Kubla Khan and his salamander, the odd snatches and scenes they visit, while the guitar flails at the edges of your sanity.
My Lasagne brings them the head of Alfredo Garcia while watching German bombs raining down on Spain and the Reina Sofia, the sad reality of war depicted though the buzzed, fuzzed out guitars and intense thoughts.
Headphones you need to wear them in all the places they suggest you do, while feeling like Carrie Fisher, this slowly evokes all sorts of feelings you may have about seeing everyone walking around in their own world listening to Helen Keller acapella on those earbuds.
The King Of Nothing takes us deep into Shelly Duvall's world, guitars and keyboards freak out in intense Babylonian squalls, that help them declaim I hope you're doing well.
The album closes with Say Hello to a year that has 13 moons in it, along with all the reasons you need her, but are still going away, they offer you a little help before they go away again on this final sweet pleading indie pop choon.
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