Sepia-toned, retro-rocker's fail to excite.
The reviewing process for Blind Jackson's debut mini-album had a somewhat ominous start. Firstly, the press release compares the London sextet to both XTC and The Coral, the latter being the musical equivalent of a cross between Tara Palmer Tomkinson and Jim Davidson; ranking highly in my all time 'Most Annoying Things In The World List' – a list that doesn't just include bands. Secondly, the CD is ridiculously held in place by one of those self-adhesive padded foam discs (you know, the kind you'd normally attach to the bottom of an object to stop it from scratching the surface it rests on). A stubborn sonovabitch that refuses to re-accept the CD once you've taken it out. It's like trying to force toothpaste back into the tube. Whilst it's clear that some thought and effort has gone into the packaging, in the 25-odd years since the conception of compact discs they've pretty much got the packaging down to a T. Try innovation somewhere it's actually required.
Like the music for example. You see whilst Blind Jackson thankfully don't sound (much) like The Coral – there's no whiny Scouse accents for starters, they do come up a bit short on the originality front. They make absolutely no attempt to disguise their shameless love of the 70's, with nasal vocals combining with guitars that strut and swagger with the very essence of retro cool. It sounds a bit like 10cc, only fronted by Mark Bolan (T-Rex, in case you were wondering) – a comment that will either make you sit up in your chair excitably, or get right out of said chair and heading for the door.
The surprisingly discordant lines in 'Mess It Up' remind of a less arty Les Savy Fav, while the funky intro to 'The Best Of His Healing' comes across like a less fuzzed-out Cream. They swing through just two tracks before the organ finally (and rather inevitably) surfaces, in the grammatically incorrect 'You Done Me Wrong' – it notably also provides a comical intro to 'In The Club' that sounds EXACTLY like Madness' 'One Step Beyond'. Whilst most of the tracks are decent enough, they just lack the killer hook or infectious melody that would make them truly memorable; instead resulting in an album that is pleasant enough to listen to, but won't leave much of a lasting impression.
Blind Jackson certainly bring nothing new to the table, but then again they haven't tried to, instead opting to wistfully gaze back to a time when flares were cool, hair was big, and peace and free love reigned supreme. Fair enough maaaaan, but it has to be questioned whether a band with such little unique identity will ever achieve more than being another nameless bar-room band – after all, why buy a CD from a band that sounds like 10cc when you could just buy the original 'Original Soundtrack' instead?