Dan Kelleher, the producer of HIFLYER's debut album 'Here Comes The Sunshine' used to be in the 101ers alongside a certain John "Woody" Mellor, better known to you and me as one Joe Strummer.
That was back in 1974 but the link to the past takes on more significance in the light of the music that HIFLYER make. In 1974 Punk UK had yet to happen and one listen to 'Here Comes The Sunshine' makes you wonder whether it actually ever did occur. Despite this Bristol 4-piece being predominantly teenagers (only guitarist Henry is over 20) their music has far greater affinity with the mid-70s pop/rock of Fleetwood Mac than the late-70s punk rock of The Clash.
Further listening reveals their love of Keane and Coldplay ('Left Behind' opens like 'Clocks'), Beatles chord progressions and the kind of west coast oriented light rock music that graces such TV series as The OC. On 'Carry Me' I may as well be listening to The Osmonds or The Partridge Family. Indeed Kelleher's uber-presence smacks of the same calculated grooming tactics of Mike Batt with Katie Melua, although to be fair we are advised that HIFLYER write their own songs.
Much of 'Here Comes The Sunshine' is relentlessly bright and poppy with song titles like 'Open Up Your Heart', 'Free As A Bird' and 'Light At The End Of The Tunnel'. As song-writers the band certainly has an abundance of talent although at this early stage their influences weigh heavily on their sleeves. The unending brightness eventually becomes cloying rather than engaging but again, in fairness, their lack of knowingness and absence of emo-like cynicism in the lyrical department is a refreshing change from the usual "I hate everything, including myself".
|
Something of an anachronism in this day and age HIFLYER may well go down in music history as the first teenage rock band to completely by-pass Radio 1 and come home to roost on Radio 2. Mind you the closing lyric of "she's my jail-bait baby …and I'm gonna go to jail" on the album's hidden track may suggest some hidden darker recesses in the soul of these relentlessly cheery pop moppets.
For now though that drug-fuelled, alcohol-skewed lyrically paranoid and bilious cant on the despair of the human condition will have to wait until the next album.
|
