Pretty dim
The Coldplay-ilk have struck again. On the face of it, there’s nothing at all wrong with 1000 Bulbs. It is guitar driven and has a soft, indie focus to the beats and rhythms, and possesses first class, illicit vocals. It fumbles towards ecstasy, stumbling over the drawback of sounding like a Snow Patrol record recorded in anticipation of a Coldplay revival. The vocals haunt and the instruments are played to perfection. But once it is gone, it is gone. It passes into memory in the blink of an eye. It is the perfect record for chill-out perfection, and the NME will spend decades telling you that Four Day Hombre are the new messiahs.
But where is the passion? 1000 Bulbs sits like warm tea in the mug. It shivers on the odd occasion and moves gently in time with the wind but it does not tremble, it does not excite, it does not invigorate and - above all - it does not inspire.
When you ask someone to listen, you better have something interesting to say. With this in mind, 1000 Bulbs is a weather report. You pay attention, marvel at the skill and the detail before choosing to concentrate solely on your anticipation of the forthcoming football results. There may be 1000 Bulbs but - for now at least - the majority of them are dim and need to be replaced.