Pale Man Made - Oh
Album Review

Pale Man Made – Oh, My Treasured Things

Not a spanking new band or in the flower of their youth exactly, Pale Man Made’s first album sounds remarkably young and filled with the sunny clatter of Pavement or Sebadoh.

It’s indie with a discordant jangle and sixties influence, more reined-in than the fuzz of My Bloody Valentine or The Jesus and Mary Chain and touched lightly by the finger of Scottish twee pop (The Pastels, The Shop Assistants), though a few rough edges and mildly erratic shared vocals are closer to Sonic Youth than the polish of Yo La Tengo. Christianne’s voice is robust yet girlish on Parties and manages to make Wild Boar sound like a porcine ode by Joy Division while Leon veers between the authoritarian tones of a Mark E Smith and the cheerful yelp of David Gedge.

The Wedding Present feel like the inspiration for Don’t Let The Bastards too, there’s a splash of The Pixies (especially in Karen’s boisterous bass, the rigid vocals of Sea I Am and the shoutiness of Luck On Every Finger) and the spirit of the Reid brothers seems to weave in and out, particularly in the title and tambourine tinkle of Memoirs Of A Sin Sister. With a musical heritage that proves gusto or guts often beats sophistication, Oh, My Treasured Things has a pleasantly patchy allure.

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