Depressingly dull with glimpses of promise.
New York-based four piece Levy released their debut album, the optimistically titled 'Rotten Love', in 2005 only to fall under the radar of most listeners and members of the music industry. Two years later they are back with an enlarged fan base, redesigned line-up and eleven track record.; hoping to attract more attention, success and myspace friends.
After a short instrumental introduction Levy launch into their title track with style, enthusiasm and a large helping of slick production. This is good, honest, anthemic indie that owes a debt to the Brit pop pioneers of the 1990s as well as other New York based acts such as The Strokes and The Killers. It doesn't break any barriers, but it upholds a standard of blandness that is catchy enough to appeal to lazy listeners who find comfort in familiar sounds. Elsewhere the influence of Julian Casablancas et al. is especially apparent, and it's at these times ('Mint' and 'Holy Water') that Levy are at their most appealing, although you can't help wondering why they weren't making these songs five or six years ago instead of now.
Sadly, as the album progresses it becomes clear that Levy may need to make a third album before they can become even consistently mediocre, 'So Hard' in particular is so repetitive you want to reach out and strangle the vocalist who sings that he is 'living love like a sword' (or whatever phrase he is attempting to articulate) close to a thousand times – at least that's how it feels. 'Lady Nicole' also falls for the lure of repeating the same thin idea over and over instead of coming up with new ones, and even a catchy riff can't save the track from being nothing more than an irritation.
Naturally Levy have some ballads to offer the listeners who make it into the second half of their album. The highly imaginatively named 'Love And Pain' is the first to make an appearance, although it changes lanes halfway through from a stripped down song of woe to something verging on a power ballad. Regardless of which lane it is driving in the song remains formulaic and lacking genuine emotion, as does 'Your Demise', the other notable "slow song" on offer here. By the time this later stage of the album is reached the singer's off-the-shelf and depthless voice will no doubt be grating on your ears and hearing it strained over long notes may be the final straw that leaves you reaching for the off button, headache pills or both.
Levy are trying hard, and as a typical British supporter of the underdog this reviewer should at least attempt to find something good to say about them, but other than re-asserting 'Glorious' to be a passable piece of radio-friendly indie pop and allowing 'Beneath 'Em All' to join it as a 90s inspired bearable six minutes of music there isn't anything to add. It's all been done before, and done with more ideas and style, too. Levy seem sadly to be the classic support band who will never rise any higher than the opening position at a gig, only being listened to whilst the audience wait for something better to come on stage.