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Like so many bands before them, massively over hyped Glasvegas have become a marmite-band, meaning quite simply that you either love them, or hate them. Unless of course you are a level headed, unbiased music critic. So nobody working at the NME, The Times, The Guardian, The Observer, Q or any other musical reviewrs, all of whom have declared them to be the next Oasis, or as the NME put it; “The most important band of their generation.”
Following in the footsteps of Franz Ferdinand, Kaiser Chiefs, The Long Blondes and The Twang, Glasvegas won this year’s Phillip Hall Radar Award at the NME Awards. No surprise then that they too went on to tackle the charts after winning the award.
Occasionally their “tales of broken Britain” don’t sound original, but reminiscent of The Enemy, despite minimal musical similarities. However, to write off this band as another act with minimal ability, over hyped by corporate music outlets would be inaccurate. The first thing which struck me when I first heard Geraldine this summer was the superb lyrical content, and the work on the album is not a letdown, it features songwriting at the same level that Geraldine promised, particularly on the track Flowers and Football Tops, where James Allen sings; “Police on my left and right/My son’s not coming home tonight.”
On Stabbed, the quartet show that they are not devoid of energy as it may seem on their leading singles. However despite this they don’t lose their lyrical genius and maintain the melancholy mood which seemingly haunts the album.
As usual with the NME darlings, this band may be overhyped, but their promise is evident. Whilst the album may be receiving extremely generous reviews, the fire behind the smoke is one of promise.
6/10.
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