Joe Lean and The Jing Jang Jong
Apologies if this review tempts you to purchase because, er, you can’t; just weeks before release, the self titled album was cancelled. Apparently Joe Lean and The Jing Jang Jong believe that after recording the album in late 2007 it does not represent them as a band now. Make of that what you will but this effort now seems a collection of extensively produced demos that, alas, will not reach the shops.
Perhaps the album was recorded far too hastily. Opening track Lucio Starts Fires sounds too fast for its own good, like a 33 played at 45rpm. The guitars could do with a few more bars to merely settle themselves down before the quickfire chorus appears. Over eager perhaps but it certainly makes a bright first impression. More of the same please and In Competition keeps up the startling, unsettling pace. A shame if this speed of delivery gets your hopes up as doubts remain whether it could be replicated live. Oddly, you begin to insist they slow things down in case they tire later on.
Where Do You Go? ends up sounding a tad stalkerish and even a little desperate. With a significant part of the repertoire regarding encounters with the opposite sex it seems Joe Lean has more than enough experience to draw upon. So many songs dedicated to just one girl; Rose, Adelaide and probably countless unnamed others, no wonder hearts are being broken.
Brooklyn at least proves some element of diversity, substituting the speedy rhythms for some shoop shoops. Lyrically, the ditty reads like a love letter displaying an enviable personal touch of longing for a missed loved one. The plethora of destinations possibly reading like the bands touring commitments, from Brooklyn to Tokyo but the sentiment remains the same despite the distance. Yet Dear Rose doesn’t sound like a love letter at all, confusing isn’t it. Tiresomely I Aint Sure is about, yeh, girls.
At this point the album runs out of steam, you already realise that the girl will probably evade his advances so another song about a wasted endeavour isn‘t exactly surprising. Far Too Early To Tell manages to confound, not least for allowing for some sentimental linting guitar. The respite hardly lasts; Lonely Buoy sounds as if Joe Lean is trying to explain himself whilst on speed, Teenagers falls flat, Light and Dark merely simmers and closing track Adelaide gives the album a flat ending despite the bizarre French speaking interludes.
Worryingly, the more you listen to the lyrics the more disjointed the album becomes. The subject matter can be grouped into one of several categories: lusting, relationships and the consequences, yet jumping from the start to the end of a romance from one song to the next when chronology would be envied. After starting off so well, the album ends disappointingly; just like the relationships depicted.