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It’s hard to know why listening to The Whip’s debut album is such an unconvincing experience. Here is a Manchester indie-dance band with the ability to turn out dirty renegade dancefloor bangers like “Divebomb” on the one hand and classically indie sounding (albeit derivative) melancholia like “Frustration” on the other. Elsewhere “Muzzle #1” and “Blackout” offer solid platforms to shake limbs to. The end product though, is frustratingly inauthentic and imprecise. A lot of these songs are painted with an electronic sheen that can’t hide the flaws lurking beneath.
There are commercial possibilities here, although the band’s influences are occasionally worn just a bit too brazenly. At times, such as on “Fire”, the electro elements sound amateurish when viewed in the bright lights of such luminaries as LCD Soundsystem and Hot Chip. Sometimes singer Bruce Carter’s imperfect voice just grates too much against the electronic undercurrents he sings over (“Save my Soul” and “Trash”). Sometimes the songs simply outstay their welcome. “Sirens”, which sits awkwardly with much of the other material, is an anthemic singalong synth-pop hit and has such a mid-80’s Flock of Seagulls feel to it that you momentarily think you’ve sonically teleported onto a different album. Album closer “Dubsex” actually recalls both Ultravox and The Human League, all of which does little to alleviate the confusion. X may mark The Whip’s musical destination but they seem to have mislaid the map. If they get their bearings back they may be capable of making a very decent album – the lack of focus just means this isn’t it.