indiecater

As purposeful, clinical and clever as a Portuguese striker, 'Bring it on' propelled Gomez to Mercury Music Prize success in 1998. No mean feat considering they were up against the likes of Pulp, Massive Attack and the Verve. In the end it was well deserved as 'Bring It On' flushed a torrent of fresh air in the smog filled aftermath of Britpop. That the album departed at right angles from this successful template, no doubt, marked them out from the crowd but it was the unrestrained spirit of five 20 year olds that announced a band flying by the seat of their multicoloured pants. Having 3 strong vocalists also helps when your horizons stretch from blues-rock to country tinged pop and back to straight up student anthems. Despite the blues influences Gomez flailed about with little or no success in the U.S. It was as if the critics were unable to believe in these upstarts from Northern England attempting to pull off such bold manoeuvres.

'Get Miles' opens the album and immediately you sense that the tired indiepop formulas are about to be turned on their head. The desire to spill unconventional sounds into the mix is apparent but it's the unnaturally sandpapered vocals of Ben Ottewell that raises eyebrows. The blues racket could be enough to throw you off the scent but its addition is important in signalling the diversity about to pour forth as the album progresses. Ottewell's voice can be a little overbearing and it takes the delicate charms of 'Make No Sound' to uncover the beauty within. Sounding like a disgruntled New Orleans pensioner he can refine his voice at the drop a hat to reveal a warm palette well able to coerce the stripped back yet intricate musicianship of his band mates. 'Here Comes The Breeze' is Gomez' masterstroke, initially slipping under the radar as Ottewell bellows and Gray coos alongside. As so often happens during the album the gentle guitars reinvent themselves midway through uncovering a set of ebullient vocals from nowhere. 'Free to Run' is similarly loose spirited as its chiming riff provides the counterpoint to the frontman's husky emissions. The expected split personality in the songs progression reveals itself towards the end to dazzling effect.

'Bring It On's vast canvas even offers pop junkies a scattering of delights. 'Whippin Piccadilly' may be a tad lightweight but as it's so inebriated with life it's hard to dismiss. Scripting the adventures of an undergraduate night-out the skewed playing has a solid undertow of clear melodies. 'Get Myself Arrested' is equally upfront and is as juvenile as the album gets. If you look beyond the obvious hits, however, there is a wealth of multifaceted gems. 'Tijuana Lady' conjures up deserts nights; its calm dedicated approach providing the perfect background music for siesta time this side of the gulf stream. Stretching over 7 minutes it ranges from pining love song, written on a lost railroad, to sublime psychedelia and there's even room for some vocal harmonies straight out of the abbey road studios. 'Bubble Gum Years' is just as affecting, drenched in the dichotomy of the vocalists it lives and breathes Beatles soaked harmonies. '78 Stone Wobble' is a cheeky effort where a rambling vocal down a phone line frolics on a bellydance type guitar groove until the connection is cut and the clearest voice appears. The fidgeting momentum makes the tune all the more effective even if it is likely to appal those on the lookout for cheap thrills.

Sadly this is the beginning and full stop of inspirational Gomez. Future albums are rammed full of shackles with half ideas executed with all the precision of a non-league footballer. Hard to believe then, that 'Bring It On' was recorded without fanfare on a 4-track in a garage. Just shows it's the ideas that matter and no amount of studio trickery can mask a dud. In hindsight maybe 'Bring It On' sucked all the inspiration the band had to offer. All told this is an astonishing debut with an accomplished feel naturally sculpted from raw talent. You'd expect youthful adventurous spirit from a debut but not songs with canyon like depth that only reveal themselves with repeated exposure. Only those with a tough hide could fail to be enthralled by the albums charm, for the majority of us it's liquid skin time.

Rating: 8/10

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