Slow Club - Paradise

If you thought boy-girl duo Slow Club were defined by their sheer tweeness, think again. Two years since their debut album, Yeah So, the Sheffield-based twosome return with a sophomore effort seemingly intent on finally dismissing the twee tag once and for all.

It's immediately clear that Paradise is an album that has much more weight than its predecessor. If Yeah So was a slightly shy teenager dancing in the shadows, album number two is bounding around unreservedly in the middle of the dance floor. Of course, it's still Slow Club – their folk and indie influences are apparent – but the production-levels and arrangements are vastly improved and there are healthy dollops of unabashed pop and some soul and Motown edges to be found here too. Where I'm Waking is a prime example of their heightened ambition. It's a rollicking, rocking anthem, in which Rebecca Taylor displays a powerful lead vocal over bullet drums and an huge chorus. Indeed, while Charles Watson leads on several occasions, such as the epic Horses Jumping, Taylor has definitely stepped up a gear, and it works a treat. Her delivery on the You, Earth or Ash is wonderful. “I'm exhausted,” she sighs with genuine emotion and weariness. It's Slow Club at their most deep and mature and is one of several moments that contrast the more upbeat tunes to create a good balance.

Not only does Paradise show a marked evolution from Slow Club's cute, charming yet fairly disposable debut effort, but it is certainly one of the better albums to have come out of England this year.

Review by Bobby Townsend. It originally appeared in Drum Media.

Slow Club - Yeah, So

English duo Slow Club have a familiar boy-on-guitar/girl-on-drums dynamic. However, while this may suggest that Charles Watson and Rebecca Taylor are a couple of White Stripes wannabes, in truth their sound is closer to the cuteness of Noah and The Whale than the ragged blues of Jack and Meg.

On their debut long-player, the gentle acoustic melody of opener When I Go is followed by the foot-stomping indie-pop of Giving Up On Love. This dichotomous pattern continues throughout, as slower tracks are interspersed with more upbeat numbers. While the softer songs show off some pretty harmonies (imagine The Magic Numbers going anti-folk), the high-points on Yeah, So are largely more upbeat, like the Rockabilly romp of It Doesn’t Have To Be Beautiful. With a big chorus that’s hard not to sing along to, it’s one of a few really memorable, uplifting tunes. Similarly, the shouty skiffle of Because We’re Dead is good fun. Throughout the record, Taylor proves herself to have a lovely voice, with a touch of the Laura Marlings about it.

Amongst an array of innocent love songs there is some darker wordplay, and plenty of wit too (“The bones inside my shins are crumbling/It’s from all the crunking I’ve been doing,”). Largely though, for all their unconventionality (in amongst bashing the stand-up drums Taylor finds percussion from bottles, spoons and chairs) the Sheffield pair actually offer fairly simple and accessible boy/girl melodies and, while Yeah, So might be more twee than Belle and Sebastian going cardigan shopping, it’s certainly charming enough to be a worthwhile listen.