We didn’t particularly think the band had a future, but then it took off, and it was ace, and after the Scala, there was an opportunity, and some money, to do another record, and I really wanted to give it a go.” “Andy and I had been friends since we were three years old,” he says, “and he was always gonna get married and move away at some point. After getting snapped up by Rough Trade management, and cutting one of several feral early EP’s for Jack White’s Third Man Records, the trio of Burslem, bassist Andy Jones (Oli’s childhood friend from Wolverhampton), and drummer Elliot Rawson, set an all-but-moribund UK alt-rock scene alight with 2016’s inaugural long-player, Alas Salvation, but for Oli, that year’s final career-high show at London’s Scala felt like an endgame, rather than an achievement to build upon. The story began after Yak had completed a debut campaign which itself had played out like a dream. It’s nice to push yourself to the limit, and I can say now that I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, because it’s a document of that time, and it’s honest and open, and I couldn’t have done or given much more, which is a great feeling.” “I don’t want it to be a boo-hoo story,” says Burslem, of the record’s tortuous gestation. Listening to The Pursuit Of Momentary Happiness, you frequently feel the white-knuckle monomania of Yak’s mission. It’s one of those once-in-a-decade records, whose sheer sense of belief and commitment pulsates through every nanosecond of boundary-breaking sound – like Spiritualized’s Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space, and Tame Impala’s Innerspeaker, both of whose creators had a part to play in its genesis. Who else these days invests every single penny available to them into recording, to the point where they become homeless, and have to sleep in the back of a Citroën estate? For singer, guitarist and driving force Oli Burslem, making his band’s second album became about pursuing his artistic vision at the expense of all else, including his own financial security, and mental health. Within a few months we’ll find out where The Crescent are really at – and whether it’s worth sticking around for the ride.Tickets are £10 in advance (more on the door) and are available from Earworm Records, the venue in person or online via See Tickets.įew albums in rock ‘n’ roll history have seen its creator’s obsession veer so close to self-destruction, as Yak’s The Pursuit Of Momentary Happiness. It’s an inconclusive performance and a long way from proving The Crescent to be the new Oasis, the new La’s or even the new Cast. As a result, the craftsmanship that goes into songs like ‘Something Else’, ‘Spinning Wheels’ and ‘Not Good Enough’ (their finest moment) is lost. With the exception of bassist Sean Longworth (whose swagger and presence could out-cocky even Liam Gallagher) the band are reluctant to truly shine. On stage, The Crescent have yet to invest the same power in their performances. Whereas other new bands from the city are happy to reference gonzo rocker Captain Beefheart, The Beach Boys and Bob Marley (often all within the space of one song), The Crescent’s influences are far more restrained: they opt instead to ape the insidious lyricism of Travis and – most strikingly – the melody and sound of The La’s. An oiky Scouse quartet thus far most famous for being protegees of lost La Lee Mavers, The Crescent are far easier to digest musically than anything else currently emerging from Liverpool’s burgeoning underground.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |