All sorts of references and plaudits have been thrown Willie J Healey’s way over the last few months.
It’s an obvious and easy trope for reviewers to draw comparisons between acts, but it’s not without purpose (and this reviewer has no bones about utilising such a well-worn technique). Perhaps it’s down to circumstance, but seeing some of the references in relation to Twin Heavy have left this writer bewildered; some are not without foundation – The Beatles (more of which later), Elliot Smith, Lou Reed and perhaps Dexys Midnight Runners. 1970s psychedelia and Pulp? Not so much.
This is in no way Healey’s fault, and it seems unfair on a young artist to bestow such honours when it’s not reflected in the finished product.
The Oxfordian was a victim of major label machinations, having been dropped by Columbia after his debut album failed to make the impression they had anticipated. Subsequently signing to Felix White’s YALA Records not only gave him a second bite of the cherry but also scope to indulge his idiosyncrasies – of which many are apparent on Twin Heavy – but none of which dominate the well-crafted songsmithery present.
The wryly-spelt opener Fashun deals with those major label experiences, poking fun at the broken promises that were made (‘You’re gonna be a big star honey, a real household name’) over a rollicking piano and dreamy backing vocals. Like much of the album, it has a breezy, slacker indie vibe. In contrast, second track True Stereo adds some grit and oomph via electric guitar, driven by Brendan Benson-esque chord sequences and an insolent sneer to Healey’s vocals.
Meanwhile, the opening track Big Nothing features a solo pinched straight from George Harrison’s songbook but is otherwise unremarkable, and Songs For Joanna struts along at first as Healey soundtracks a coming-of-age sexual experience (and says as much), before undergoing an increase in tempo and instrumentation, building up to a release akin to, well, a sexual experience.
The young singer does slip into an American accent, as he does on several tracks. It’s understandable, as his alt.indie style lends itself well to the accent, but is incongruous when knowing his background. Although prominent on the stomping, ragged Heavy Traffic it doesn’t detract from arguably the album’s strongest track, a more personal insight into the travails of a young man in an uncaring world (‘I’m twenty-two and still confused’).
The title-track pilfers a melody from Bowie’s Life On Mars? but comes up short (understandably) in comparison, while Condo recalls The Rapture’s slower moments, including an uncanny Luke Jenner impression, and complete with an arpeggiated synth motif as Healey broods about love desperately and vulnerably. For You is saccharine sweet, albeit with guitar lines that add grit, while Why You Gotta Do It? rocks in intent but his naivety is laid bare (‘Money doesn’t make you happy’). Thousand Reasons again apes The Beatles with its baroque piano, a technique that will outlive us all.
Willie J Healey is clearly a student of music, and for that reason Twin Heavy shouldn’t be summarily dismissed. It’s a solid effort that makes up for a lack originality with its deference to several sides of classic pop.
Hopefully still finding his feet, more interesting work should follow.