Well there’s a tongue twister. Pity the poor radio presenters.
This Warrington four-piece have been in action for five years, their angle being an amalgamation of left-of-centre politics with a punk-funk sound. Released in 2016, the self-titled debut was perhaps ahead of its time, the tidal wave of societal dysfunction then still yet to fully hit.
In 2019 we’re in the full throes of the chaos (although these may seem like halcyon days in the years to come) and so Men Of The Moment, which is a continuation of their wry observational style, couldn’t be more prescient. But if you fear another doom-laden state of the nation address in the manner of Thom Yorke, don’t be put off. This is an album with joy as its core.
Life On An Island best demonstrates this; despite the lyrical content coming from the perspective of a man who is frittering his life away, with only the next pay day to look forward to, it’s drenched in calypso funk. A perfect dichotomy. Recent single Capable Man carries more of a disco strut, like Franz Ferdinand in a dance off with Talk Talk, while Give Me The Pomp is more straight forward art-pop but no less angular.
Of Course is sweeping melodrama, the lead vocals carrying a majestic dignity over a military structure. On Safari is written from the perspective of someone who is part of the establishment, perhaps an MP, congratulating themselves on how ‘real’ they are by ‘integrating with the native population’. It manages to be subtly derogatory in both perspective and content. Closer White Culture is quite literally a list of criminals, from Saville to Sutcliffe, over a sparse verse and guitar intense chorus. The title alone makes the point.
The key touchstone is The Divine Comedy. So tongue-in-cheek it’s almost blowing raspberries, right down to the vocal delivery and sometimes jaunty song structures, it’s little wonder they are supporting the indie heroes this autumn. It’s very much a concept album, most of the songs written from the perspective of that most unrepresented demographic: the previously repressed white male. Even down to the artwork, a piece by, ahem, man of the moment Cold War Steve.
But it’s not done with a superior sneer; it reads (hears?) like an attempt to understand why this specific sub-group think and feel the way they do, and attempts to defuse their toxic masculinity. Ironically of course, were anyone of that ilk to listen to the album they would likely feel outraged and offended, as they’d likely be taking it at surface level.
On Men Of The Moment, Man & The Echo are offering a perspective on how we got here in the first place, not professing to have the answers to the current dilemmas but, with a strong pattern of uplifting melody, they are ensuring we learn with a smile on our face.