Wild Smiles are three musicians from Winchester who don’t mess around.
Their debut ‘Always Tomorrow’ – straightforward in its pursuit – is unpretentious. While the deep-running, yet quick-to-stick lyrics address lost loved ones and the challenges of adolescence, the music is an easy-to-the-ear rock out.
Marked by drums that bang away like naïve enthusiasm and a guitar that pirouettes through a haze of noise and fuzz, their style is in one piece even though their influences seem fragmented. What John Holmstrom described as ‘Bubblegum Heavy Metal’, epitomised by the Ramones, is perhaps also apt for Ben Cook and brothers Chris and Joe Peden’s straight-sailing approach.
Early US punk being the groundwork, there’s some garage and grunge in there too, which – although rooted in the 60s and 90s respectively – is reminiscent of the wave of late 2000s UK bands like the Kaiser Chiefs. Though their music is dubbed ‘indie’, it shares a similar connection to the past.
‘I Never Wanted This’ starts off with a riff that instantly recalls Kurt Cobain and, in a quiet-loud-quiet manner, culminates into a garage punk chorus you’d imagine kids at the skate park boppin’ their dreads to. Lyrically, it’s more complex in content and structure as it critiques the white-picket-fence life that’s forced upon us by society. Lead vocalist Chris Peden sings cynically that he, ‘Could buy a house and a double bed, to live a normal life’, but interjects with an exasperated, ‘I never wanted this’. It sounds like it’s contemplated in hindsight to the conclusions expressed in the verse, like a ‘before-and-after’ role play adding some sophistication to the song writing.
Similarly, ‘Hold On’ dresses a bitter topic in a feisty tune it’s easy to celebrate to. Dealing with the suicide of Peden’s friend, the words express anger towards the hopeless future of a jobless youth. The following track, ‘The Best Four Years’, is more longing and dwelling in tone, suggesting a corresponding doom. Characterised by a scratchy, low-fi cassette sound it’s, as the title suggests, just as nostalgic in subject matter as it is in technique.
‘The Gun’, however, makes up for all the despair by being more upbeat again. Going back to past traumas with a previous band, it’s sung with a sassy attitude and has a memorable riff.
‘Always Tomorrow’ – a very allusive name – characterises the coming-of-age nature of the album well. Not only do the influences grow to become a whole, but so does the nihilism. On the surface it’s a party, yet the distrust of an uncertain future advances over time. Thus, at first listen, the nine mostly-under-three-minute songs sound fun but very familiar; it’s when you discover the hidden pockets that they become interesting.
Most notable is perhaps that at least three genres from different decades are merged into one, yet the overall sound is homespun.
Like a deep sea that appears as flat water, ‘Always Tomorrow’ is in fact not such a shallow pond.