Music that makes you feel like a kid can go either way. This homage to the experimentalists of alt-pop lands on the right side – just. The jumbled tracks barely fit together as a flowing piece but the mix of novelty and memorable keeps you glued.
Taking over the old organ room at St Brides Church in Liverpool, Wave Machines emptied out a stuffed gown cupboard and set about recording this low budget electro-pop record. Appearing in face masks at their own fantasy live nights in the church nave, competing against likeminded eccentrics and fellow North West odd squad Cats in Paris, these aren’t your obvious 60s imitators. This creative den of goodness has shaped a debut long-player that is deliciously flawed; it’s as though half the album was conceived on the dance floors of their city, the other in late night spiritual reflection.
Not until the crackling haze of ‘Dead Houses’, drummer Vidar Norheim’s beautiful album closing lament for the abandoned buildings of Liverpool, are you finally able to take a breath without the air being instantly sucked back out. Wave Machines have scattered in a dolly mixture of surprising slow burners (‘You Say The Stupidest Things’, ‘Carry Me Back To My Home’, ‘Wave If You’re Really There’), which lead with lullaby keys, jangling guitars, a wave of synths and owe much to the alternative daydreaming of Postal Service and Mercury Rev. Dashing from there to a grudging flash of their roots, it is obvious this foursome favour 80s post punk – as imagined by local icons Echo and the Bunnymen and the Teardrop Explodes – over the Cavern Club scene. During the chorus of ‘Punk Spirit’ you can briefly feel the ghosts of Merseybeat and its impersonators’ other obsession – the West Coast of America. Taking centre stage on this Ipod shuffle style collection it marks yet another possible direction to explore. Everything else is strictly of the moment. The sweaty New York, global disco crossover on the bass heavy beats of ‘I Go I Go I Go’ and ‘The Line’ are so Friendly Fires, so Hail Social retro electro, it almost stinks.
As jumbled as a collage of XTC’s ‘Black Sea’ and Hot Chip’s ‘The Warning’, what ‘Wave If You’re Really There’ needs is some of these musical adventurers’ innovation. The playing is tight, the sound surprisingly refined; what’s missing is a decisive hand to take the album one way (total kookiness) or the other (break out debut dance classic). Whatever, Wave Machines won’t remain Liverpool’s best-kept secret once this ambitious record hits. From the opening ‘No Surprises’ notes these tracks will have you flicking back, trying to work out if this is a broad play at commercial adoration or just a bunch of perfect three minute pop songs to enjoy on repeat. It addictively toes the line, especially during sing-along single ‘Keep The Lights On’. Tim Bruzon’s falsetto vocal was probably intended to provide a trendy touch, à la Empire of the Sun, but strangely emerges as part Barry Gibb, part Scissor Sisters when it’s injected in to the catchiest of playtime funk anthems.
Truly sparkling in its subtler moments, this first stab at a full length classic has cleverly re-imagined what’s already out there. With greater focus and a sub-genre to call their own – crafted from the flashes of epic marching band drums, wall of synthesizers, bizarre sound effects and off-kilter vocal – the next promises something more lasting for our machines. Pay attention now.
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