The Rifles - Freedom Run

1953 - the discovery of the structure of DNA. 1989 - the fall of the Berlin wall. 1991 - the invention of the internet.

2011 - the release of The Rifles’ masterpiece ‘Freedom Run’? I think not. This third offering from the quintet will not go down in history as a world, or even life, changing event. It is not a life changing record. And yet, it’s one of those that even after the initial disappointment (and the generic rant you generically do about how generic everything is these days), you’ll probably still go back to give it a cheeky listen every once in a while. Just because actually, it is quite sweet.

Opinion on these Cockney Mod-sons is divided, some advocating them as a breath of fresh air in a saturated market and others writing them off as nothing more than Weller-championed copy cats. And on the basis of this album, it’s hard to disagree with the latter. Because after starting out fresh faced and eager to find a new record to love, what listening to this album turns into is 45 minutes of identifying where you’ve heard it all before. And there’s a long list.

After a couple of run of the mill openers, ‘Tangled Up In Love’ kicks in; the first single to be lifted from the album. And (credit where credit’s due) it does tick all the right catchy, radio-friendly boxes. But that’s because the song’s been done so often before - it’s a tried and tested formula. Really, it’s just a weak cordial: water ratio version of Blur’s ‘There’s No Other Way’ with Elbow’s violins pasted over the top.

Which sounds harsh in the few lingering seconds until next track ‘Everline’ chimes in. But frustratingly, this is no less generic. It’s your token going-to-be-used-on-some-American-indie-flick-akin-to-Juno affair… and in fact it does sound uncomfortably similar to Barry Louis Polisar’s ‘All I Want Is You’, which sound tracked that very film. Only not as cute.

‘Love Is A Key’ is Primal Scream and The Charlatans. It’s The La’s and Dodgy, and in fact the beginning of everything starting to sound a bit passé, like the remnants of Britpop, after Britain had moved on.

Which is what you find yourself wanting to do, because after a couple more tracks you’re too bored to even carry on with the game anyway. And that’s a shame because it isn’t a bad record - the song writing isn’t poor. It’s just predictable – it’s all the stuff you’ve heard a hundred times before and you’re sick of hearing about.

So while, after a couple of listens, you probably will have to resign yourself to slotting this record in alongside Milburn, The Pigeon Detectives and The Paddingtons (which in itself does not need explaining), it probably won’t be the last you hear of it. World-changing masterpiece it may not be, but there’s enough commercial initiative in there for it to catch up with you on a Barclay’s advert or two somewhere along the line.