When you hear the word ‘lurching’ you immediately think of large, cumbersome creatures that can’t move their limbs properly. In the case of The Victorian English Gentlemens Club’s third album Bag of Meat, the ‘lurching’ sound is more akin to a spindly creature who has more in common with the stop-start movements of a silent-movie Nosferatu. I hope that makes sense. It will when you hear it.
Bag of Meat is the follow-up to the 2009 LP Love On An Oil Rig. Produced by Charlie Francis (sorry Fringe fans, not the fictional FBI agent) the album can best be described as abrasive-pop that is highly listenable, surprisingly addictive and very enjoyable. Given time. There’s plenty to differentiate it from the slew of indie bands around at the moment. The bass is dirty, the androgynous vocals are barked over short bursts of layered sound that careens between tight melodies and near free-form explosions of noise that gets heavier as the album progresses. The brilliantly titled Lost My Face in a Fast Car Race edges towards Editors territory in the opening verse before turning into a song that sounds the aural equivalent of a jigsaw from a charity shop. Some of the pieces are missing, some of the pieces are from other puzzles, but it manages to hang together. A couple of the songs are like this in places but through some mad alchemy The Victorian English Gentlemens Club make it work. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea; but at the same time there is genuinely something for everyone. Songs like Pistol Whipped with its church organs and jaunty melodies will appeal to indie-pop fans, while the dirge-tastic My Imagination Can’t Save Me Now will definitely tickle the fancy of people who don’t think The Cramps are an oft-heard influence in today’s music scene. My personal highlight is the dense, distorted, heavy and very evil sounding Card Trick With a Chimp because I love shouty vocals and proper thumpy drums that demand you listen to them right now that very second.
This review is long overdue. Partly because I’m rubbish with deadlines, but mostly because I just couldn’t make up my mind about this album. I’ve decided I actually like it rather a lot. It’s definitely a grower and there were parts of it that sort of grated on me initially but then began to seamlessly melt into the larger picture of the album as a whole. Maybe it edges a little too close to ‘trying too hard’ but it definitely falls short of super-edgy-art-rock-for-turbo-hipsters-only.
What I’m saying is that this album is worth your time, and not just for a ‘first’ or ‘one-off’ listen, but maybe a few times a week you could wrap your ears around this and, like me, grow to love the scruffy, noisy, lurching little beast.
Bag of Meat is available now via This Is Fake DIY records.
LD
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