Review Summary: "He only grows for guys he knows and me"
I was just a wee child at the time; but the story of Britpop, especially in the U.K, is inescapable. NME regales its young readers with tales of a “Cool Britannica”, when everyone in the country was buying album after album of cocksure, totally English, feel good rock and pop. Every song on the radio was relevant to Britain and being British, with regional accents galore and lyrics that just resonated with the U.K working (and wannabe working, think “Common People”) classes. It was like an English summer, with Brits out frenzied to make the most of a good thing, and just like an English summer, it soon faded out into a drizzly Autumn of Travis, Coldplay and Snow Patrol, or so the story goes.
If this was true though, Bring It On rightfully should be held as the soundtrack to the end of an era. On this, their debut, Gomez has produced an exquisite record for the collective English comedown from the dizzying party of the 1990’s.
Gomez soothes their listeners with a quirky, stoned gumbo of rustic Americana and soulful blues, with a defiant and potent twist of British indie.
The stand-out quality of their sound has to be the rich, bluesy texture of their instrumentation and harmonies. The breadth of their sound is staggering, as Gomez channel New Orleans through their use of organs, slow distorted guitars, trombones and a top notch rhythm section that skips to a jazzy beat. Seasoning this potent brew are fleeting dabbles of digitally manipulated vocals, samples and oddball synth. There is no lead singer; instead the soulful growl of Ben Ottewell is interwoven with his band mates’ gentle, restrained harmonies. Think of fellow northerner bluesman Eric Burdon, of The Animals fame, only instead of drunk on just whisky, also red-eyed from long, skinny joints.
This cocktail wouldn’t count for jack though if it wasn’t for the sheer musicianship. Each musician plays from the gut in perfect balance with the rest of the band, when Gomez crescendo no individual has taken the lead, instead the group has reached a collective climax.
Thematically though Bring It On is a thoroughbred Brit-indie album. The regional accents are there, as are the name checked places and that unique brand of melancholy we English have moping in our blood. And as far as being relatable to the Britpop audience, this albums lyrics are steeped in drugs imagery. From “dealers that only grow for me” to “not enough hours in a trip” Gomez sing of highs gone by and good-times to come.
The whole album evokes a small Uni dorm-room, brimming with sweaty, gurning music afficiandos, coming down from an epic high, air heavy with marijuana smoke, lit only by iTunes (truly excellent) visualiser. And if that’s an appealing image to you, most definitely check out this severely underrated album.
