As the world and its wife already knows, Alan McGee has always been the possessor of an uncanny musical Midas touch, spotting talent which has gone on to achieve stratospheric success and often culturally define an era, Oasis and Primal Scream being obvious cases in point.
One of McGee’s chief characteristics is the passion he has for new music, of signing talent that he fully believes in. Is Pete MacLeod, a fresh signing to McGee’s new 359 Music label, another potential success story to add to his long and extensive portfolio?
The first songs on ‘Rolling Stone‘ have a blustery forthright sound, which give the impression of a full band working with an intuitive, electric chemistry rather than just one man on his own with a load of instruments – and some software.
Opening tune ‘Let It Shine‘ is beautifully jangly, like something by The Smiths, but with MacLeod’s sun-kissed vocals tumbling heartily across a full sound concocted out of bounding acoustic guitar, interlaced with electric licks and hearty beats which not only recall The Smiths, but also resemble Ocean Colour Scene. From this, there could now be a tendency to believe that ten homages to various aspects of ‘Britpop’ are about to follow, especially when recalling the music of previous bands on McGee’s roster.
For those who dread they’re going to be transported back to some dingy disco, circa 1995, by transcription, don’t despair, for there is an assorted bouquet of things going on at this banquet to stir the souls of many different music lovers.
Although not instantly catchy, there is something enthusiastically warming about ‘Let It Shine’ – an infectious positivity which prevails across more or less the entirety of the record from here on in.
The title track is a lovely, ringing little number composed of layered squalls of finger-licking electric guitar and patches of acoustic. It is beatsy and ballsy in an earthy way, while the rocky ‘God Speed‘ visits early R.E.M; chipper, layered furrows of rock guitar and punk-like drum rhythms are all brought together under MacLeod’s voice – an interesting instrument in itself, which sounds incredibly radio friendly and immediately smacks at being able to sell a million records with ease, having a timbre that recalls Michael Stipe, Crowded House‘s Neil Finn and, in places, Ian Brown.
The way that albums are juxtaposed is, undoubtedly, an alchemical science, and something that either works seamlessly to weave a thematic atmosphere, or chops and changes, like the wind, forcing the listener to hop between tracks rather than letting the whole carnival do its thing naturally.
Here, MacLeod has got it bang on the money, with the full boisterousness of the first half of the record suitably slowing down to a more chilled vibe across many of the closing four or five songs.
‘On The Other Side (Part 1)‘ and ‘Panic‘ largely jettison the full-bodied band approach for something sparser and more intimate and, in some respects, oddly haunting, creating a buzz of reflective longing with little more than odd keyboard and string refrains, while ‘Re:ality‘ sees MacLeod casting his voice across a deceptively simple rhythmic guitar melody that sounds a little like Bronski Beat‘s ‘Small Town Boy‘.
Not naming any names, but there’s been a fashion, during the last decade or so for a whole host of slightly wet, slightly wimpy solo artists attempting, and often succeeding, to inch their half baked wares onto the conservative ears of the coffee shop illuminati, releasing gapingly dull music which seems to be accepted, with kid gloves, as the messianic arch emotional yearnings of the ‘new’ man. Fortunately, Pete MacLeod isn’t one of these drips.
He’s more like a fresh summer rain storm, whooshing in to blow those muggy cobwebs out of the water.
Great review Sam, can’t believe you did not mention the track “Today I Went Swimming” This is Macleod’s Champagne Supernova moment. Totally Awesome track.