Fit the Paradigm
So, this is more Caledonian art-pop, from the smokes that gave us the likes of Orange Juice and la Ferdinand.
They’re even continuing the trend of naming a band after a person. There is a bit more going on with Stirling’s Jack Butler, though. Just. In fact, I would go so far as to say there’s too much going on. The album hurtles along at such pace; it seems to be in fear of the listener losing interest. Bloc Party yelps clash above artschool-ska, whilst Jack Penate seems to be gobbling speed through it all.
There are some nicely fluid guitar lines, in Just Fit The Paradigm and Boy vs. Beast, for example, but they don’t hang around. Even the considered lyrics whip by in the wind - the irony of ‘these kids’ll buy anything to pour through their ears’ from the aforementioned title track notwithstanding. It takes Ostinatos to almost save the album from careering over the edge of the angular cliff, before it, too, goes off into a ‘lion sleeps tonight’ seizure, complete with jungle whoops. There’s just no need for it. By the close of the album, the band is sounding like rip-offs of themselves, which is quite a feat. As my driving instructor used to say, before launching into another sermon about Christ: you can do the accelerator - now let’s look at the brake.