 |
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Fez, New York May 12, 2001 By C. Bottomley For the British songwriting duo Turin Brakes, playing a free show in the plush surroundings of the Fez club must seem like a step backwards rather than the first move in what could be a slow seduction of the U.S. The ruby-colored mirrored walls suggested a cross between a cruise ship lounge and a bingo hall. And although the guest list was long for their New York debut, the ticket price was free. Add the fact that it was barely twilight outside on a day blushing with the first sign of summer, and the air of exclusivity that surrounded the two childhood friends-turned-Next Big English Thing became the gentle breeze of an evening's diversion. However, that suited Olly Knights and Gale Paridjanian just fine. While the crowd craned necks to see if anybody famous was checking them out, the fresh-faced twosome strolled on stage, picked up their acoustic guitars, and started to play. Their dedication to the song and nothing but the song has led tastemakers to lump the Brakes in with the current wave of Jeff Buckley worship that's been sweeping English groups from Radiohead down to Coldplay. But it was evident even as they stepped into their opening instrumental that we have something different here. Paridjanian decorates their songs with sweeping bottleneck guitar lines that sob or twang behind their harmonies, and when Knights opens his mouth to sing, the schoolboy whispers of Yorke, Martin, et al., are quickly banished into a corner without any supper. He's not above the odd whimper or touch of freshman melancholia (particularly on the shimmering "By TV Light"), but his particular wail is closer to the torchy mannerisms of Harry Nilsson or, a more likely source, Rufus Wainwright. With Paridjanian's voice taking the lower register, all ears were soon trained on their accomplished harmonies and there wasn't a cell phone ring to be heard. After a jaunty "The Road," they sold their debut, The Optimist LP, with ease, banishing the post-millennium blues with bashful charm and space-age fantasias like "Future Boy." Knights even confessed that he and Paridjanian were actually sorta sick of singing their 3-year-old songs. Fortunately, new material like "Average Man," which began with a trippy slide intro and flew on the sentiments "Have another drink my son/ And enjoy another cigarette/ Because it's time to realize you're just an average man," sounded equally strong. They finished with their recent Brit hit "Underdog," just in case we needed a theme. They may prefer being sensible rather than excessive, but in a land where rock dinosaurs like Creed lumber around, Turin Brakes seem nimble enough to avoid being trampled underfoot. We'll raise a glass to that. |
|
|
||
|
> BACK TO THE REVIEWS |
|
|||||
|
|||||||
