1990s may well boast a fair pedigree in terms of their Glasgow cult bands pedigree (consisting as they do of former members of V Twin and Yummy Fur, but the fact that they’ve taken a decade that in many ways marks a cultural low-point as their name really isn’t the best advertisement. ‘Kicks,’ their second album, is produced by Bernard Butler. In the words of Shania Twain, that don’t impress me much. Ok, so Butler’s work early in Suede’s career was of merit, but this is the man who brought us Duffy. As I see it, he’s got a lot of making up to do. So will his work with 1990s go any way towards making amends?
Kicks ‘kicks’ in without pausing to wipe its feet with the US New Wave-tinged ‘Vondelpark’ a very square 4-4 rhythm countered by some occasionally off-kilter guitar and an oft-repeated ‘uh-oh-oh’ refrain delivered with a knowing dumbness, landing somewhere between Tom Petty and The Ramones. But I can’t help but thinking Razorlight’s ‘America,’ too, which is rather a downer.
The ‘hoo-hoo’ and ‘aha-aha’ ‘lyrics’ are all over ‘Tell Me When You’re Ready,’ which boats a hip-shaking groove, but... well, not a lot else really besides a superabundance of hand-clapping, posturing and pouting.
‘I Don’t Even Know What That Is’ is more of the same and has me wondering as the old-school r’n’b riffage atop a stonking, relentless snare-driven drum launches its way from the speakers – is it Stones-influenced? Or is it Primal Scream ripping off the Stones? And I eventually conclude it doesn’t matter. As the lyrics that trip over themselves to rhyme, rather than necessarily articulate (‘I’m a little confused by the shoes you choose’ by no means an isolated example of the whimsical pseudo-cleverness that abounds) keep on coming, and the rather forgettable riffs continue to be rolled out over the course of the dozen tracks, it grows increasingly apparent just how derivative 1990s sound and ‘Kicks’ is. There are moments of Free, Franz Ferdinand, Depeche Mode (‘Balthazaar’ leans heavily on ‘Just Can’t get Enough’ – and ‘Every One’s a Winner’ by Hot Chocolate, if I’m not mistaken), a plethora of forgettable skinny white boys in white t-shirts indie bands, and did I mention the Rolling Stones?
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Yes, it’s got melody and harmony and stomps along in an upbeat fashion for the most part. And there’s some quirky subject matter (Mongolian warlords, Scientology and the number 59 bus from Pollockshields, to name but a few of the lyrical focuses), but it all feels a little limp and generic, and very soon becomes tired. By the midway point, I can’t help but feel I’ve heard it all before, and by the end... Sorry, Bernard, but this just won’t do. Must try harder. And this is the new millennium! It’s time we moved on from the 1990s.
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