Much like the Young Knives, THE PLAYWRIGHTS take something most British bands go to great lengths to hide…their nationality. Needless American pronunciation has been replaced by unashamed broadcast of the English accent. So the Bristol burr doesn’t rumble its way through but The Playwrights are Hugh Grant in musical form. Stammering, bumbling and awkward, they’ll undoubtedly lure an audience with innovatively poetic lyrics and the incessant charm that courses through ‘English Self Storage’.
It’s a persona aggressively undertaken with Aaron Dewey’s faltering vocal delivery substantially aided by hefty off kilter guitar chops and punchy percussion. ’Fear of Open Spaces’ scuffles with shifting melodies and time signatures akin to Biffy Clyro. The gentle ‘Dislocated (London Version)’ represents their most accessible offering whilst ‘Movements towards a paperless life’ sees Dewey’s vocals take on an almost operatic sincerity. Conveniently truncated at eight songs, it’s more of a mini album than full blown debut that thankfully just doesn’t overstay its welcome. Despite the highlights of ‘Fear of Open Spaces’ straining chorus, even at a mere eight songs it does suffer moments of rambling pointlessness.
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For the most part it typifies the emergence of intelligent, quirky English art pop and like running up a sand dune; ‘English Self Storage’ is as frustrating as it is heart warmingly fun and is at least worth a bit of your intrigue.
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