The Loves - …Love You

It’s a strange dichotomy that while some bands get absolutely hammered for sounding derivative and unoriginal, others who make a virtue of it are routinely lauded as paying ‘homage’. I guess it depends on the extent of their claims of originality, but those who brazenly stick their flag in a particular era seem immune to the usual criticisms about rehashing old ideas and styles – witness Oasis being continuously panned as Beatles wannabees while Holly Golightly consistently earns critical acclaim for her (very) retro compositions. It’s a dog eat dog world, and Cardiff’s The Loves have experienced both sides of this particular coin.

This is their fourth, and allegedly last album, and it mainly sticks to their unabashed 1960’s bubblegum pop template. That they make no secret of their affection for this time and its style has always been clear, but being original while sticking to some tried and tested template is no mean feat, something they haven’t always been successful at. Ironically, they sound best when they most ape the genre that inspires them: ‘Bubblegum’ is a huge slice of psychedelic, um, bubblegum pop, very shouty and restless, whilst ‘December Boy’, full of lush harmonies, plinking piano and clean guitar, sounds like something from a West Coast High School dance circa 1964, the aural equivalent of Mom’s apple pie. The slamming power pop of ‘That Boy Is Mine’, with Liz Hunt on vocals, typifies the stomp and reverb they are so fond of, as does the rag time piano and jangly hand claps of opener ‘WTF?’

Perhaps it’s ambition, perhaps it’s bloody mindedness, but when they attempt to add a little more range to their sonic palette, they find themselves on shaky ground. ‘I Lost My Doll’ is a sweet enough acoustic ditty, but which never really goes anywhere, and ‘King Kong Blues’, a heavy, moody number with hints of Zeppelin, ambles along menacingly only to end in a cacophony of noise. Although dark and broody, its gibberish lyrics and overly repetitive riff lack the intensity or drive which all great rock tunes have, and ends ups sounding just a little half hearted. Even the inclusion of a cover throws up problems. That they do Nathaniel Mayer’s 1966 classic ‘I Want Love & Affection’ justice is not in doubt, but the tune itself highlights the simplicity of structure and effortlessness of the era’s best tunes, something that’s sadly lacking in their own material.

Wearing your heart on your sleeve is a good thing, and although The Loves clearly don’t take themselves too seriously, such a carefree attitude can be dangerous when it comes to song writing. They never fall as far as being pastiche, but there is a lack of clarity and unity of purpose to these ten tracks, as if they have tried to cram everything, and every idea, into their final effort. There are even hints of gospel and Church organ on ‘It’s…The End Of The World’, and a strange, almost spoken word effort in ‘O! My Gawd’. It’s not rap, but imagine Subterranean Homesick Blues produced by Phil Spector and sung (spoken?) by The Ronettes and you’re halfway there. Maybe they feel hard done by, or denied the recognition they think they are due, with Simon at one point crooning “It’s the end of the world, goodbye / Knowing no-one cares at the foot of the stairs / It doesn’t matter to you, why should I try?” Bitterness is a terrible note to leave the room on, and one hopes that it won’t spoil what, all things considered, is a pretty decent cannon of work. We know you love us, maybe we should have loved you back just a little more than we did.