The Stereophonics’ existence is sure proof that, no matter what other developments occurs; there is still space in the British Musical landscape for simple, sonically-powered guitar. The riffs are as rough and ready as Kelly Jones’s voice. If Rod Stewart had a Welsh Lovechild then truly, it must be this man. Contrary to what their many critics have said these past ten years, there is some slight development here. n songs like “Mr. Writer”, The Stereophonics discover what differences minor chords can make to a song. That said, they’ve never fallen out of love with their big guitar sound. It’s to their credit, though, that they embrace it. The Stereophonics know what got them where they are today. They understand that there is a demographic out there that want their guitars and emotions loud and simple and have duly responded. These are big tales from small towns. With big riffs and big voices ready to tell them. These guys never make the mistake of letting their voices or their riffs get in the way of the central feeling. These tales are very close to the heart. They never fall into the trap of sentimentality, which has been the downfall of The Stereophonics’ more successful contemporaries. These guys never lost sight of their roots (‘The Bartender And The Thief’, ‘Local Boy In The Photograph’). They’ve also got their tongues firmly in their cheeks (‘Mr. Writer’). They tip their hats in various places to The Manic Street Preachers and Guns’n’Roses. They love their guitars loud and wild but, thankfully, like Queen (another obvious influence), they also love having a voice of their own. So, twenty songs down the line and four albums into their career, this album sounds like a perfect summation of where The Stereophonics are and what they’ve achieved thus far.
