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Grandaddy have, logically, been around for donkey’s years,
and highlight one of the peculiarities of what makes an act successful.
They have long pedalled their own brand of melodic, country-tinged,
electronica-decorated guitar pop, without ever being overly raved
about. Then along comes midget Brendan Benson who does exactly the
same, but knocks about with Jack White, and suddenly his records
fly off the shelves and his shows sell out. Nothing against Brendan,
who is well worth his success, but Grandaddy’s talent is hugely
impressive. This is a 7-track mini-album before their next major
release so presumably represents something of a throwaway side project,
yet is jam-packed with happy nuggets of ideas.
The driving ‘Pull the Curtains’ is an ecstatic mosh-pit
and ‘At My Post’ may be the most ideas-per-minute song
of the year. After one verse we’ve had feedback, circus sounds,
sci-fi, piano and bags of kitsch – yet it all slots together
perfectly. They even manage to rage happily at the way of the world,
“There’s more ATM’s with air conditioning, than
there are birds on the wing”. ‘Cinderland’ apes
Mercury Rev before they got too overblown…. Ah, every track’s
a minor gem.
Perhaps the best way to illustrate Grandaddy’s casual brilliance
is a story a friend told me. Grandaddy have a song called ‘Jed’
wherein they build a robot, who becomes a good and true friend to
the band. They then leave Jed on his own to go off to a conference
(!?) and when they return Jed has killed himself in a fit of loneliness.
This song moved my friend to tears so he queued at a record shop
signing to tell them so. The band listened sympathetically and nodded
approvingly – “it sure is a moving song”, they
agreed. My friend left the shop and only then looked at the dedication
they had written in his CD. There was a sketch of a gravestone on
which was written ‘RIP Jed – later, you robot fuck!’
Brilliant – these guys deserve to be heard.
words: Roger Hadwen
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