More on: Dirty Pretty Things

Label: Vertigo
Release Date: 30/06/08
Rating:

If the musical output of Carl Barat was a living human being, he or she would probably be the most reliable friend you ever had. Not that the man is exceedingly dull, far from it at times, but you would always know exactly where you stood. So, Dirty Pretty Things' second full length carries with it very few surprises. Flag-waving patriotism? Yes. Anthems for the hopeless romantics? Of course. Commentaries on the social lives of Britons highlighted by attention devoted to tiny details? As if you had to ask. While there's hardly any progression from 2006's outing 'Waterloo To Anywhere', no one expected the foursome to crack out the glowsticks and keyboards anyway.

'Buzzards And Crows' is the first stop on the tour of Little Britain - a rhythmically staggered, wonky rock and roller with a cracking chorus. As inevitable as the references to classic British bands are, the gently sloping drums and poetic lyrics probably wouldn't sound out of place on Combat Rock. Having faintly favoured Barat's vocals over the drunken murmur of Pete Doherty in the days of The Libertines, 'Hippy's Son' is a reminder of the gruff growl he delivers so well. The slightly bitter, matter-of-fact verses are held back only by a contrastingly soggy chorus that feels like a bit of a cop-out next to "I am a hippy's son/I'm into porn and guns".

Although Barat will undoubtedly always be the poster boy, it must be remembered that this not a one-man show. This is easier said than done though - much like the predictable subject matter, everyone does a decent, though far from enthralling job. Didz Hammond's basslines are competent, Gary Powell bashes the skins with just enough diversity to save the percussion from absolute mediocrity and Anthony Rossomando's guitar is perfectly acceptable throughout. It's bloody tough to write about something that sounds almost exactly the way you expected it to sound.

Imagining how the record sounds in your head is probably as good as buying it, and will cost you nothing, but the positive aspect of 'Romance At Short Notice' is that its urban rhymes rarely sound dated. 'Faultlines', 'Chinese Dogs' and first single 'Tired Of England' could well be songs from six years ago, but are pardoned due to their sarcastic, often crude lyrics ("you look pretty, pretty fit for a pedestrian pounding") and the realisation that an honest commentary on Britain is still a relevant relief in the face of many a slightly pretentious indie band. Topman sponsorship and mountains of guyliner you will not find here.

Nor will you find anything remarkable or out of the ordinary in any of the dozen tracks on show. Still, if you close your eyes and clench your fists really tight, 'Romance At Short Notice' may tide you over until Barat writes a truly great record or Doherty cleans up his act and the pair write something on par with 'Up The Bracket'. Listening to this and reading the reports that a reunion won't be happening anytime soon though, Dirty Pretty Things' latest will be wearing thin before either scenarios come true.

Graham Drummond

Dirty Pretty Things Official Site