There are three reasons to love The Tailors before this CD even escapes its cellophane cocoon. First up, it is the first full-length release from illustrious label Trash Aesthetics. The label that gave a couple of groups of young gents better known as Bloc Party and The Rakes their first breaks with debut 7”s, also gave this London-based band that opportunity last year (it sold out in a week). Secondly, they run the wonderful monthly Sadder Days night at Brixton’s The Windmill. And thirdly, in a true rock and roll moment, their barely risqué album cover has been banned by that paragon of virtue known as Myspace.
Thankfully, when you stop staring at blurry breasts on the cover and actually get round listening to Wakey Wakey, it becomes apparent that there are another 11 reasons to love the Tailors. The album opens with the lo-fi power pop of ‘Belle Vue’, a song dedicated to the down and out who just can’t help going out to drink away his problems: “My family picked me as a waster now / But there’s no work tomorrow and I’m going out / Growing old’s all they know about and time is running out, / Can I sleep on your couch?” A buoyant slice of americana it’s an arresting first track.
This theme of self-pity is one that remains consistent throughout this album. ‘Belle Vue’s upbeat restlessness is followed by the similarly bittersweet ‘Now The Good Times Are Over’. The singularly negative sentiment of the song is twisted and actually manages gives a sense of release with the help of an anthemic chorus: “Now the good times are over / There’ll be no more bad times / Now the good times are over / We can all get down”. Again it’s a song that rejoices in its own negativity, typified by the defiant “Tell your mother I’m sorry but I’ll never be a CEO”. ‘Tales From The Deep’ continues the juxtaposition of downbeat subject matter onto upbeat Americana with a confessional tale of a man who is trying to impress a woman. Like the previous two tracks it does so with admirable lyrical quality, relating the perils of pretending to be something you’re not: “Practising looking so deep…from the hollow shallows...my home made heavy heart embarrasses me.”
The brief, self-referential ‘Segue Song’ (“Just an old seque song that doesn’t mean anything”) is something of a bridge between this opening alt-country rock trio and a more fragile middle section of the album that is dedicated to the pain of relationships. Slow-burning ‘The Little Things’ relates the breakdown of a flawed love affair (“I don’t expect you to give a damn about the little things”) with long, meandering lyrical lines that are prominent features of The Tailor’s brand of alt-country. The delicate ’Mi Mye Cat’ is a similarly tortured number with lines such as “Both hands are tied / One says I’m so down on the world / Another says I’m in love with this girl” done justice with some dazzling harmonies. It is ‘Telephones’ though, placed slap-bang in the middle of the album that is the real highlight. An aching song focusing on the refrain “Oh my love have I neglected you?” it is a triumph. Like the songs around it, it speaks of loneliness, alienation and desperation (“Deep in your heart a secret’s concealed / Far from your grasp but further from mine / Oh darling I’m lost”) managing to do so with pathos but without indulgence.
Along with the lovely ‘Fireplace’ and album closer ‘One Last Time’ (which neatly sums up the dejected tone of the album: “One last time for me / Make believe we’re in a band / And everything’s still sweet / Cos it’s just pretend”), Wakey Wakey’s ballads are every bit as good as the more upbeat americana elsewhere. Each one is full of poignant, moving words, sung beautifully by Adam Killip and complemented by touches of pedal steel, fiddle and slide guitar. It is by no means an original concept, but rarely is it done this well. Even more rarely is it done this well by a British band in this most American of genres – in fact, the most surprising thing about this album not that it is so good, but that the Tailors don’t hail from middle America. ‘Lonely Pockets’ and ‘Backslap Club’ are two more examples of outsider americana carried off with aplomb, ensuring the second half of the album doesn’t become overwhelmed with the desolation of the slower numbers.
Wakey Wakey was recorded over a year in an old townhouse in Wakefield (hence the title) leading to contributions from some 11 musicians. Despite these varied influences and the length of recording time it is a very cohesive album, combining touching desolate lyricism with lush arrangement. At times it sounds like Whiskeytown (‘Tales Of The Deep’, ‘Lonely Pockets’), at times like early Wilco (‘Belle Vue’, ‘Backslap Club’) and at its most fragile (‘Mi Mye Cat’, Fireplace’) even the likes of Nick Drake, but always Killip’s warm voice delivers the melancholic themes impeccably. An examination of tragic flaws in a tragic world it is an admirable debut.
****
First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.
Thankfully, when you stop staring at blurry breasts on the cover and actually get round listening to Wakey Wakey, it becomes apparent that there are another 11 reasons to love the Tailors. The album opens with the lo-fi power pop of ‘Belle Vue’, a song dedicated to the down and out who just can’t help going out to drink away his problems: “My family picked me as a waster now / But there’s no work tomorrow and I’m going out / Growing old’s all they know about and time is running out, / Can I sleep on your couch?” A buoyant slice of americana it’s an arresting first track.
This theme of self-pity is one that remains consistent throughout this album. ‘Belle Vue’s upbeat restlessness is followed by the similarly bittersweet ‘Now The Good Times Are Over’. The singularly negative sentiment of the song is twisted and actually manages gives a sense of release with the help of an anthemic chorus: “Now the good times are over / There’ll be no more bad times / Now the good times are over / We can all get down”. Again it’s a song that rejoices in its own negativity, typified by the defiant “Tell your mother I’m sorry but I’ll never be a CEO”. ‘Tales From The Deep’ continues the juxtaposition of downbeat subject matter onto upbeat Americana with a confessional tale of a man who is trying to impress a woman. Like the previous two tracks it does so with admirable lyrical quality, relating the perils of pretending to be something you’re not: “Practising looking so deep…from the hollow shallows...my home made heavy heart embarrasses me.”
The brief, self-referential ‘Segue Song’ (“Just an old seque song that doesn’t mean anything”) is something of a bridge between this opening alt-country rock trio and a more fragile middle section of the album that is dedicated to the pain of relationships. Slow-burning ‘The Little Things’ relates the breakdown of a flawed love affair (“I don’t expect you to give a damn about the little things”) with long, meandering lyrical lines that are prominent features of The Tailor’s brand of alt-country. The delicate ’Mi Mye Cat’ is a similarly tortured number with lines such as “Both hands are tied / One says I’m so down on the world / Another says I’m in love with this girl” done justice with some dazzling harmonies. It is ‘Telephones’ though, placed slap-bang in the middle of the album that is the real highlight. An aching song focusing on the refrain “Oh my love have I neglected you?” it is a triumph. Like the songs around it, it speaks of loneliness, alienation and desperation (“Deep in your heart a secret’s concealed / Far from your grasp but further from mine / Oh darling I’m lost”) managing to do so with pathos but without indulgence.
Along with the lovely ‘Fireplace’ and album closer ‘One Last Time’ (which neatly sums up the dejected tone of the album: “One last time for me / Make believe we’re in a band / And everything’s still sweet / Cos it’s just pretend”), Wakey Wakey’s ballads are every bit as good as the more upbeat americana elsewhere. Each one is full of poignant, moving words, sung beautifully by Adam Killip and complemented by touches of pedal steel, fiddle and slide guitar. It is by no means an original concept, but rarely is it done this well. Even more rarely is it done this well by a British band in this most American of genres – in fact, the most surprising thing about this album not that it is so good, but that the Tailors don’t hail from middle America. ‘Lonely Pockets’ and ‘Backslap Club’ are two more examples of outsider americana carried off with aplomb, ensuring the second half of the album doesn’t become overwhelmed with the desolation of the slower numbers.
Wakey Wakey was recorded over a year in an old townhouse in Wakefield (hence the title) leading to contributions from some 11 musicians. Despite these varied influences and the length of recording time it is a very cohesive album, combining touching desolate lyricism with lush arrangement. At times it sounds like Whiskeytown (‘Tales Of The Deep’, ‘Lonely Pockets’), at times like early Wilco (‘Belle Vue’, ‘Backslap Club’) and at its most fragile (‘Mi Mye Cat’, Fireplace’) even the likes of Nick Drake, but always Killip’s warm voice delivers the melancholic themes impeccably. An examination of tragic flaws in a tragic world it is an admirable debut.
****
First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.
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