Unkle Bob – The Hit Parade
As is always the case with these things a little of what you might call an apology. A little while back these chaps (5 in total) sent along an album, turned out to be their debut. At the time it didn’t strike a chord and not being one to go off in print and lambast them I quietly passed on it. So imagine my face when this came through the post – eager I thought, and with the failing memories of that album though distant yet still to mind I pushed this to the middle of the pile.
Now imagine my surprise when early in the morning, as is the way of these things, I reach for something new to hear and up springs this four track affair. Oh well in for a penny in for a pound I thought. But hey! hell this is good I thought as the first 20 seconds of ‘Hit Parade’ fizzed into life, better skip to track two ? damn better still.
The first thing that strikes you about Unkle Bob are Rick Webster’s vocals, powerful yet fragile at times with a chorister charm at others possessing that same soft lost at sea keeper of life?s lonely observer post quality as attached to Nick Drake no more so is this evident than on the affectionately elegant ‘This Way’ where the shy intimate charm of Tugboat stars Pellumair meets the haunting solitude of ‘At the chime of the city clock’.
Each of these three originals are classically steeped in the thrill of sensitively romance laden acoustically honed bitter sweet pop, all accompanied by a sting in the tail and all matured, sophisticated and heavily tugging on the heartstrings.
The almost Church like ‘Swans’ is dressed seductively with the tender natured underpin of a full bodied orchestration that has the power to cut you to the quick while being perfectly treated to the lush sway of Morricone like sweeping strings. Strangely enough the lead cut ‘The Hit Parade’ is the weakest track here coming across as though the sparseness and hurt grace of the Red House Painters has been dynamically enhanced by the Dream Academy it also has the honour of being de-mixed by Creeping Bent (what ever happened to them) / Psychiatric all stars Colditz who impress their skills for the ‘A hard teeth PI’ retread and render the original almost unrecognisable and into the bargain somehow impart an, if possible, futuristic Silver Apples gloss to the proceedings. Gem like. Time to root out that album again methinks.
