Is it? Is it really?

Why do Americans have to make everything their own? Why do they have to brand it, secure the rights to it, and eradicate everything that made it original?

Give Americans a fat, juicy steak and they'll grind it up and pass it off as a Big Mac. Pass them a cup of coffee-flavoured-coffee (cheers Denis) and they'll turn it into a Venti-Choco-Mocha-Latte-Double-Whip-Half-Fat-Scorched-Butternut-Squash-Chino-Chaachi-Fruitini. Show them a classic British movie like 'Get Carter' and they'll decide that The Italian Spaniel is just the man to star in the remake. And what was the greatest gift we could possibly give them - apart from that cheap knock-off version of London Bridge? It was a superlative present: The English language. We bestowed upon them a dialect (both spoken and written) of infinite wit, fiendish complexity, breathtaking dynamism and yet refined by its stupendous simplicity. And what did they do with it? They ruined it with ridiculous spellings, dim-witted pronunciations and fatuous inventions.

"Colour" is spelt the way I've spelt it. I spelt it the way every English gentleman spells it. Hell, even Essex girls can probably spell it correctly - and I'll bet even they can pronounce "tomato" correctly - although that's probably because they're used to asking for a bottle of sauce - and you'll probably notice I said "sauce" and not "ketchup". That's because I feel a need to maintain standards and practice what I preach. After all, it wouldn't do to take cheap shots at the Yanks and then start spelling "Light" with too few consonants and one vowel too many would it?

Linguistic quandaries aside, 'Awesome Colour' (there's not a chance in hell that I'm going to bow down to such brazen cheek) have crafted an album that should be great but isn't.
Produced by Thurston Moore, it should be a raucous blues-rock, riff-heavy sludgefest of a beast. Instead it's muddy to the point of incomprehensibility; monotonous to the point of reprehensibility and as inspiring as a watching an oil-covered swan being kicked to death by George W. Bush, before he drives to his private jet in a Hummer. This annoys me. It annoys me because Awesome Colour (leave it) have the potential to be a great band, and from all the reports I've received, they're an absolutely stunning live act.

Opening track 'Grown' is the blueprint for the album. It's all fuzz-suffused guitar, incessant repetitive drumming, lazy bass lines and laconic, drawling vocals. If you need a reference point, think of Iggy & The Stooges' debut album - and indeed it was no surprise to hear that the band was taught to play by Scott Asheton. What sets them apart is primarily the quality of the songs (obviously) but also Moore's production. Awesome Colour should sound hungry, raw, anaemic, but instead they sound like their souls have been crushed, like they've been thrown into the studio against their will and told that they weren't being let out until they'd finished recording.

The critically acclaimed 'Free Man' has got a Rolling Stones-esque groove, lyrics so relaxed they could have been written by a coma-ridden Peter Fonda but again it's missing that vital spark; the vitality, the chutzpah, the fucking bollocks that would make it a killer track.

'Unknown' almost nails it. A simple harmonica, (courtesy of Akwetey Orraca-Tetteh) proves a much needed invigorator and breathes new life into the album, while, conversely 'See You Hear You' is a melodic, lumbering brute that, for once is complimented perfectly by the thick-as-treacle production.

Of course it couldn't last. How could it? As I'm a man that always sees the half-empty glass resting on the bar, I was expecting everything to return to business as usual. I was wrong. It got much worse. Trying to match Def Leppard's 'Animal' was always going to be a tough job - and Awesome Colour (stop it) just don't have the balls. Okay, I'm joking - it's not a cover - which is a shame, because I bet they'd probably carry it off pretty well on stage. Nope, instead what starts out a groovy, almost funk-inflected closer that features a silky, sexy sax and a charmingly eccentric synth, disintegrates into mindless noise of such gruesomeness you'd think you were listening to free-form jazz.

'Awesome Colour' is a good album on the inside. On the outside, it's an overcast, drizzly morning on what should be a glorious day in the sun made perfect with a traditional Devonian cream tea.

The band is touring the UK this month. I for one reckon the trip is worthwhile. But, as with everything in life, it's up to you. Now get your ass off the couch and fetch me a double-whopper meal with extra fries and double-tall skinny latte you douchebags...