Trial Kennedy - New ManicArt

Mon 2nd Jun, 2008 in Music Reviews

Another one of those bands you’ve probably heard of as they endlessly tour the country in support of the likes of Gyroscope and Horsell Common, Trial Kennedy have grown themselves steady and fairly organically, obviously taking notes from their peers. The backing of a major label (Gotham Records through Sony BMG) is instantly obvious with this, their first full length. It’s supported by a budget that allowed them to record in Atlanta with Nick Didia, known for his work with Audioslave, Incubus, STP and more.

New Manic Art is a varied affair, the influences are generally hard to pinpoint, though the flavours of the above-mentioned acts certainly shine through at several points. Sunday Warning is everything an opening song should be – dramatic, upbeat and attention-getting without being over the top. Just as the song comes to an end – or so it seems – it tears out of the speakers and grabs you by the throat for a second, even more powerful assault.

Current single Neighbours is the strongest example of a song with a particular flavour, very reminiscent of a Horsell Common track, with a more straight rock sound and less menacing bass tunes. The only problem is it endlessly plods on as if it is about to reach some kind of dramatic climax, instead continuing on without going anywhere at all. Speaking of Horsell, Colour Day Tours was written with Mark Stewart (Horsell singer/guitarist) in mind, a little number to help cheer him up whilst on the road away from his daughter and partner. Musically the tone is neither bright, nor is it depressing. It sits casually somewhere in between with all emotion feeling superficial or hollow. And this is how much of the album goes.

Reading through a track-by-track explanation, one begins to wonder if vocalist Tim Morrison is talking about the same album here. Sun Eyes, according to Morrison, is a “bright and summery, feel-good song”, but it is the kind of song you’d find typical of an album closer, with its slow tempo, mellow vocals and progressively decreasing power.

On several occasions Morrison appears to have drawn influence from Cog vocalist, Flynn Gower, with his drawn -ut and powerful wails, such as on the title track. Surprisingly, it’s not really all that out of place within the context of the song, though it is a fair bit of a contrast in respect to most of the album and, indeed, most of their past work.

The highlights of the album are late emerging, popping up their beautifully ugly heads at eighth and ninth on the list in the form of lead single The Great Escape and El Dorado. These are prime examples of what this album should have been. There’s no – œgrowing’ about these tracks – they’re instant toe tappers. Distortion-a-plenty, the songs command attention, rocking out full steam ahead right from the word go.

Having watched these guys evolve over the past few years, this album is a bit of a disappointment. They have taken their time growing themselves naturally, developing their own sound and going from one natural progression to the next. New Manic Art, however, has taken a much too ambitious approach to both writing and recording. Much of the upbeat rock that fans have come to love and expect in the past is lacking, the album largely consisting of uninspired pop rock and devoid of hooks or direction. It’s hard to see this working on the live circuit – œcause it’s certainly not working in the stereo.