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Kicker
Our Wild Mercury Years
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Article
written by Ged M
Jun 5, 2005.
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Previous exposure to Kicker might have made you think that they were a floorstomping Northern Soul meets jangly C-86 band, in thrall to Joe Meek 45s and FAB 208 annuals. The current album is consistent in that respect but throws in a more slow burning, soulful/doleful sound, which is a way from their carefree origins.
Formed in 1999, they released five singles on various labels, collected together on FiveFortyFives on Track & Field in September 2002. Apart from appearances on tribute albums and label compilations, they’ve been working on their difficult debut album ever since. While there’s nothing revolutionary about Kicker, they prove that even familiar themes can be reworked to new ends (just look at St Etienne).
Though some will claim to hear the influence of the Auteurs on ‘Doris Dear’, there’s more of the sound of Felt meets the Go-Betweens (circa ‘Tallulah') to the album as a whole, especially where the violin adds richer tones to the guitars. ‘New Day Fresh Start’ has real 60s brio, soundtracking a promotional movie of swinging London. ‘Now That The Autumn Is Here’ takes them off down a West Coast road, sounding like the Gene Clark-era Byrds, while the folk-rock-pop of ‘Local Gentry’, with its jangly guitar sound, anticipates the direction that Ben is currently exploring with his other band The Eighteenth Day of May. (This is Ben’s only vocal and his and Phil’s endearingly wobbly Lloyd Cole meets Lawrence singing serves to show that all indiepop should be sung in a female naïve-pop style). The album is bookended by two Phil-sung downbeat tunes that give the album its more sombre hue. Finest moment though is the off-yer-head version of the Inticers ‘Since You Left’, reaching heights that the Style Council only dreamed off in its synthesis of dancey Northern Soul rhythms, frenzied vocals, punchy guitars and wonderful trumpet and keyboards.
The album’s been a long time coming and doesn’t disappoint. It’s a glorious indiepop record, as much for catching your breath as cutting a rug, but just as sweetly still keeping the summer alive.
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