On 10th January 2006 at 20:51 Anonymous 3667 wrote...
Dregs, your reviews are skill on toast. Keep up the good work o' fellow Halifaxonian brethren.
By The Most Terrifying Thing
Musically, what would the most terrifying thing be? Hows about Gary Glitter, on Speed, performing at a multi-racial Crèche? Jailbait!
Or, getting to a gig in London, then realising you've forgotten the self-appreciation powder? No contract for you, palvain.
Or, even worse, being in a Post-Rock band?!
Yes, I know that last one was a bit strong; forgive me.
Fortunately for, The Most Terrifying Thing, they can do more than just dynamics. If my cute little secretary were to file this album, it would be under the word, "Epic". (Unfortunately, I don't have a secretary, or a filing cabinet, but it paints a pretty picture don't it?) Everything about it is so grandiose that Prince would definitely want to get his little end away to it; the Narcissistic Rat-Boy.
Grunge meets Pop on songs such as, 'Silent Type', 'Always In The Way' and particularly 'The Pianist'; which manages to sound like angst Editors, without the bad Curtis impersonation. This was certainly the standout track, and for five or so minutes I forgot my misery, and even cracked a smile. I guess this is the angle that, "The Most Terrifying Thing" are stroking; massive, gutsy guitars and melodies, with the soaring lead parts of Interpol at al. And for the most part, it works very nicely indeed. The songs are all well crafted, cleverly arranged, and performed by a tight and energetic band that I'm sure would be a force when performing live.
It works an album too, as the lyrical content laments and snarls at love, life and Lemsip (Has anyone ever been addicted to Lemsip? It's a keeper!). I'm bullshitting about the Lemsip, it was just a shit gag, but old Pricey shouldn't worry, I like the way he rolls. Some may reduce his ass to old Chad K, but they'd be double wrong, and would need a kicking. That's why I've only slightly hinted at his name, you see?!?! Genius, me.
Right, qualm time.
This is an impressive first effort by this Liverpudlian four piece, and each song bounds and breaks at all the right moments. However, as the album progresses, it begins sounding too polished, too accomplished, and even too overblown. The aural shimmery on show here becomes a little impersonal, and separates the listener from any real connection. This is where I think the band could improve, as no risks are taken, and rawness is outlawed; reminding me of a Hollywood nose job: looks good, but you'll never be comfortable with it. How do you know, I hear you cry?!
My secretary told me.
Dregglesworth & Co.