CHRIST ON A BIKE!
You know how sometimes a tune starts a wee bit quiet and you’re thinking “hmm, low levels” and crank it up a notch… And then the main event kicks in – way past 11, it either (a) wakes up the neighbours, or if you’re wearing headphones, (b) takes out an eardrum.
Ouch.
That’s ‘State of Grace’ which opens the ten-track debut album from this Edinburgh band. It’s LOUD. But it’s that element of surprise, which to be honest, you’d think I would have learned to expect by now.
In truth, Curators aren’t doing anything that’s particularly new. We’ve already established that they do the loud/quiet/loud thing rather well. But what they also do particularly well is “anthems”. The opener has a big lusty chorus, and while it might be the album’s best tune, the rest aren’t far behind.
In fact, what strikes you is the relentlessness of the hooks that keep on coming at you – hitting you from every angle, with an insistent riff here, an explosion of guitars there, a drum fill that threatens to kick in your ribcage. And of course, a selection of soaring choruses that would have your Muses and Biffys and Arcade Fires racking their brains to figure out why they didn’t come up with them first.
One point to make – made already in fact – is that the constant urge to sing along, bounce around the living room, crowd-surf across the office and climb on the shoulders of the nearest passerby may prove slightly wearing (to the listener’s friends and workmates at least). But then again, if you don’t like this album you’re probably already dead. Or, at least, deaf.
