Ironically, for a band that names its debut album The Death of Style, Coventry’s ten legged angular pop machine are no strangers to attractively packaged releases. While their debut single was a cloth bound beauty housing both the 7” and CD formats, this long player comes complete, appropriately enough, with a liberal sprinkling of little sequins. Fortunately the sparkle is maintained with the contents too. Perhaps slightly harder sounding than their previous jangling Smiths style cuts this has plenty of edgy jagged riffs and of course, vocalist Hywel’s terrific floaty, slightly contained, warble, sounding like Feargal Sharkey if he was a librarian.
If you want your music to stimulate your loins but not the grey matter then this is probably not the band for you. Like the Wedding Present and Hefner, this is indie for the thinking man or woman, frequently tackling the less pleasant aspects of failing relationships and poking a chiding finger in the ribs of chums, past and present, for their actions. The surf ripping opener Catholic Guilt is an exasperated, forlorn attempt at persuading a female friend to dump an abusive partner, set to a twisty hook and metronomic drumming. Let’s Go Drinking In The Morning is a breakneck tale of a relationship masking its obvious problems by necking booze that could be depressing if the tune wasn’t so damn good. As the title of track four proclaims, Everyone Loves The Sequins. Ah, indeed we do.