Forget about COLDPLAY, once poor man’s RADIOHEAD (Yellow, The Scientist), nowadays (Speed of Sound) over-estimated A-HA (not that frantic A-HA from Take On Me, the reflective A-HA from I Call Your Name, Summer Moved On, Early Morning, I've Been Losing You, Dark Is The Night For All, Move To Memphis, Hunting High And Low etc). Time is over for egotrips disguised as electronic meditations!

Just listen to Britain’s newfound heroes, KEANE, and you’ll know why. This time is…MUSIC!

Instead of COLDPLAY contenders, KEANE initially sound like unintended TRAVIS heirs – good guys crafting sensitive Rock N’Roll gems. But where TRAVIS were (are?) linearly bouncy, KEANE floods with elliptical delicacy. And there’s much more to their bag of tricks than simply Britpop. The difference makes one of KEANE’s possible futures some steps closer to THE KINKS, something TRAVIS could only dream of. Tom Chaplin (vocals), Richard Hughes (drums), Tim Rice-Oxley (bass and piano) occupy the position briefly enjoyed by THE LONDON SUEDE, BLUR and THE VERVE in the previous decade.

The comparisons shatter all the illusions built by years of British press hype and sub-par marketing competition. Production values are pretty similar, but these bands – KEANE, COLDPLAY, TRAVIS – differ enormously in what they have to offer.

Tom Chaplin’s voice has a resounding vibe all of his own and a wondrous sense of dynamics while Chris Martin is content to sow seamless sheets of moans and whines samplered from Tom Yorke, aspiring to reach the heights of A-HA's frontmen Morten Harket (Francis Healy, for the matter, is the restrained guy of the bunch, but devoid of unnecessary gloss, which makes TRAVIS much more sincere than COLDPLAY and a little bit less theatrical than KEANE).

KEANE is a no-guitar-man’s band, they sprinkle edited guitar parts here and there, to impressive results. Hopes and Fears, their debut, is not guitar-led like TRAVIS (Andy Dulop is the tasteful responsible) or heavily edited like Jon Buckland offerings for COLDPLAY. Guitars are not credited, and we won’t sorely miss them for the majority of tracks. “Empty spaces” are a relevant feature of KEANE’s music, they don’t overcrowd our ears with layers and layers of sound. The have less things to hide or suggest, they play safe and on-your-face.

The bass, on the contrary, is confidently lead by Tim Rice-Oxley with sinuous efficiency, much pronounced than TRAVIS’s shy Dougie Payne or regularly hidden COLDPLAY’s Guy Berriman.

Drums are quiet and measured in the best British tradition, Richard Hughes is as subtle as THE VERVE’s Peter Salisbury. TRAVIS’ Neil Primrose is as adequate, but working within a guitar band framework. COLDPLAY’s Will Champion seconds the piano very well, but not much more than that.

The piano, finally, sets TRAVIS (a more traditional Rock N’Roll band) apart from COLDPLAY and KEANE. Chris Martin employs it as the guiding light of his band, acutely, which is by far their best accomplishment, the only thing COLDPLAY has to elevate them above the multitude of RADIOHEAD imitators. KEANE don’t concentrate so much on the piano, but it plays for the whole, it assumes a key supporting role. Tim Rice-Oxley sets the mood astonishingly everytime he’s onboard.

After all, KEANE is a much more versatile band than one-trick-pony COLDPLAY and much less restrained by Rock N’Roll conventions than TRAVIS. This said, they also know how to work old British rock elements out to articulate new artifices of sound and meaning.

Somewhere Only We Know unfolds KEANE’s garden of wonders. Epic, but never stretching beyond a heart’s width, this lovely ballad displays an embracing dynamics, out of the blue you are captive. Chaplin fodders his perfect pop gem with impressive amounts of taste and control, without losing sight of emotions. He brings the world to dance around the curvaceous melodies of Rice-Oxley’s piano, gradually raising anyone’s temperature, by the end you’ll be singing alongside the bridges that melt warmly into choruses. A gorgeous anthem.

This Is The Last Time could have been a painful offering, but KEANE turned it inside-out. This is a reflective band, they don’t just content themselves with unveiling their selves. Like THE SMITHS on their prettiest and REM in their least earnest, KEANE finds sunny gems amidst unfortunate situations. Their lyrics are not stale stills like COLDPLAY or impressionist sketches like TRAVIS – they have motion. Through the process, it rejoices with unfettered optimism. Busy drumming and playful piano together, they melt the elastic vocals (with some Michael Stipe’s ad libs thrown in the mix).

Bend and Break deceptively signs with the most muscular track up to now, but soon turns into another exercise in piano-led prettiness. This time it’s a MARILLION miniature – a small pop gem bursting through the bulb of Art-Rock (Beautiful, check it out). Some odd sounds thrown in the mix to disguise Chaplin’s TRAVIS undertones, but the piano is the commanding voice here. Some sameness seems to be affecting their melodicism? Hum…Wait for the next track!

Time for a slow ballad, time for We Might as Well Be Strangers. Another display of KEANE’s disposition of turning lowed emotions into quicksand craftsmanship. A THE SMITHS-like title, a TRAVIS-like melody and the initial depression converges to an early U2-like stadium-filling chorus. But it ends pretty soon, like an unfinished statement, as if the band didn’t know what to do thereafter. Beware of this guys, leave it for COLDPLAY…

Everybody’s Changing brings back an oasis of minimalist melodicism (no pun intended). Apparently closer than ever to RADIOHEAD (vocal timbres, shiny keyboards and swaggering electronics on the background) and TRAVIS (that falsetto chorus in crescendo), it nonetheless presents a redemptive chorus Tom Yorke renounced years ago and all serenity Francis Healey lost somethere. This distinctive middle-ground means KEANE beats these bands on their own game instead of simply sounding like a carbon copy – which is quite impressive. Another timeless melody. This is the runner-up of the record, only a few steps below the monumental Somewhere Only We Know.

Your Eyes Open is the less traditional Britpop offering. A driving piano, on-your-face vocals, slight dance hints and moderate timbre shifts, it has the tension of vintage THE LONDON SUEDE, but lacking the depressive underpinning feel, it ebbs and flows with energy. It could have been from THE LIBERTINES as well as from THE BLOC PARTY. It’s contemporary, it’s alright, but it lacks distinctiveness. I wouldn’t remember it’s KEANE unless from the credits.

She Has No Time recalls the slow, starkly electronic ballads from BLUR’s 13 record, only filtered through TRAVIS everyman’s melodicism and with distantness increased twofold. The outcome is almost Trio-Hop and this time, they also resemble A-HA (those hi-octane tenorisms on chorus and endless bridges, Morten Harket would be proud of). 5min45sec it’s too much for the track’s own good. It works, but it also halts the momentum of the record definitely.

Can’t Stop Now is a Jangle Pop offering, REM and TEENAGE FUNCLUB could have been indicated on the DNA test. Bold drumming from Hughes opens gates for this Sparky’s Dream soundalike. Chaplin alternates between Michael Stipe and Norman Blake – but his timbre is better employed on tidal choruses than on streamlined offerings like these. The last section brings back some epic mannerisms so sorely missed, the track almost feels like an experiment, thus.

Sunshine once again goes through the motions of post-THE STONE ROSES electronic indie. This time fused with an odd 80’s feel (ULTRAVOX? ROXY MUSIC-minus-Brian Eno?). The distantness and manufactured air of this track builds to a hermetic atmosphere, distinctive, but much less stellar than Somewhere Only We Know. 80’s revival works better for SCISSORS SISTERS, THE STREETS, THE KILLERS – bands with less restraint and finesse.

Untitled 1 brings the electronic indie trends forth, this time approaching NEW ORDER orderliness. The bittersweet melancholy of Chaplin is far beyond the reach of Bernard Sumner’s recent offerings and the spidery melody is a gentle rapture. But what’s left behind the 5-plus minutes of ruminations and processed beats? It’s not concise as NEW ORDER, it’s no pop song, it resembles much more the uncompromised, extensive sketchy outpouring of ELECTRONIC. It’s the sign the band has run out of ideas, but in a gentle way…It’s not Vicious Streak, indeed.

Like subtle bulbs of light inside a profound dwell, Bedshaped it’s the prettiest and most sparse offering on the ballads department. It approaches cautiously, and wears all its fragility on the surface. Soon it becomes another RADIOHEAD inspired anthemic quasi-Rock, with grandeur but played for within. The alternation of moods and emphasis, somewhere between late 80’s Tecnopop and late 90’s Post-Rock, is stunning. It closes the record in a rewarding way.

So…Conclusions? TRAVIS is a quasi-traditional Rock band. COLDPLAY, they walk on somewhere else’s shoes and play their few tricks around. KEANE is the missing link between Britpop and contemporary Indie Rock. And it is all the more promising, in 2005. See ya!

Tracklist

01 (* * * * *) Somewhere Only We Know
02 (* * * * 1/2) This Is The Last Time
03 (* * * *) Bend and Break
04 (* * * *) We Might as Well Be Strangers
05 (* * * * *) Everybody’s Changing
06 (* * * 1/2) Your Eyes Open
07 (* * * *) She Has No Time
08 (* * * *) Can’t Stop Now
09 (* * * *) Sunshine
10 (* * * *) Untitled 1
11 (* * * * 1/2) Bedshaped


Recommended: Yes