Review: Jack Foley
LEICESTERSHIRE-based foursome, Kasabian, have blasted onto the
indie scene with all the arrogance of a youthful Oasis, recalling
the glorious heyday of the early 90s with an almost effortless
Thanks to singles such as Club Foot and LSF (Lost
Souls Forever), the band is yet another English outfit that
is carrying a strong vibe, and their potential is fully realised
in their glorious debut album, which arrives like a ready-made
soundtrack for the present college/university generation, who
were too young to cherish the indie movement at its most cock-sure
Spouting borderline pretensions such as 'our job is to keep the
trendy perplexed', and 'Britain needs a new band to breathe life
into it again', Kasabian may find that filling such a so-called
void maybe more difficult than it seems, but they will no doubt
have fun trying. And it is the listener who will reap the biggest
While the likes of Keane,
Razorlight and The
Libertines might have something to say about cornering the
market, Kasabian certainly have the tools to put them alongside
the new musical elite. Their self-titled debut is a storming affair,
in which satisfaction is all but guaranteed.
Many of the beat-laden tracks arrive with the same sort of charge
of Begging You-era Stone Roses, while bass-line driven
numbers, such as Processed Beats, bear an uncanny resemblance
to the technique employed by one of their heroes, Mani, from both
the Roses and Primal Scream.
Lead singer, Tom's vocals also owe a lot in style to another
overlooked indie outfit - that of The Space Monkeys (Sugar
Cane, anyone?) - but the rhythms and pounding beats could
be ripped straight out of many acts from that revivalist era.
Not that this is a bad thing!
In tracks such as Processed Beats, the synths and pumped-up
guitars contain an energy that has been lacking for some time,
casting aside the post-punk fascination of late, to deliver a
different sort of reminder; and one which comes with a smile intact.
While former single, LSF, is nothing short of an anthem
in waiting, hooking you in from the moment the guitars take off,
and providing the sort of sing-along chorus that seems destined
to make it a classic.
The musical interlude which precedes it, in the form of the choral
strains of Orange, paves the way brilliantly, provoking
comparisons with the sort of use of angelic choir employed by
hip-hop partnership, DM
and Jemini, to make their brand of music so enticing.
While instrumentally-driven numbers such as Ovary Stipe
and the bass-driven ID are evidence of a band that is
not afraid to let their music do the talking, such is the rich
array of weaponry at their disposal.
It is little wonder, therefore, to find that the album has been
jointly mixed by the band itself and Jim Abiss, who has contributed
so memorably to efforts from The Music, Unkle, and DJ Shadow,
and who seems to have an ear for recapturing the Madchester movement.
It would seem, on the basis of this first album, that the band's
arrogance is justified, for this is one belter of an introduction,
that would seem to pave the way for a very bright future. And
that's not bad for a band named after murderer, Charles Mansion’s
1. Club Foot
2. Processed Beats
3. Reason is Treason
5. Orange (Interlude)
6. LSF (Lost Souls Forever)
7. Running Battle
8. Test Transmission
9. Pinch Roller (Interlude)
10. Cutt Off
11. Butcher Blues
12. Ovary Stripe
13. U Boat