Arriving in the eye of the 1995 Britpop hurricane, SWERVEDRIVER'S third album 'Ejector Seat Reservation' was always going to swim against the tide in a climate dictated by Oasis' laddish anthems and Blur's cheeky Mockneyisms.
And so it proved, although – ironically – 'Ejector Seat...' found the Oxford quartet pursuing a restless quest to move forward sonically and at least toy with sloughing off the Shoegazing shackles once and for all. It may not have worried the charts too much at the time, but hindsight suggests it stands as arguably the best of their first three albums now re-issued in deluxe form by Sony/BMG.
None of which should be construed as the 'Driver making such a radical left-field departure as to render them unrecognisable from the quartet who made 1993's 'Mezcal Head'. There are no 'Live Forever”s or – alternately – 'Glory Box”s here; no air-punching anthems begging to be shouted at Maine Road or anything gasping for a Massive Attack remix. Indeed, were you to cherry-pick the overdriven guitar burnouts of 'How Does It Feel To Look Like Candy' and the sub-Spiritualized rush of 'I Am Superman' from this bunch, you'd soon suffer from an uncomfortable feeling of deja vu.
Hang around for the duration, though, and you'll be rewarded. Opening track 'Single Finger Salute' offers a pointed title, but its' gentle, OST-ish drift (acoustic guitars and mellotrons, no less) is a welcome, scene-setting surprise and the low-key loops, growling basslines and all-round sense of poppiness emanating from 'The Other Jesus' are enough to engage all but the hardest of hearts.
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It's not the only time they flaunt their new-found confidence either. Although Adam Franklin and Jimmy Hartridge are no Alex Chilton and Chris Bell, 'Bubbling Up' has a distinctly Big Star-ish dreaminess about it and the nagging'n'drawly title track walks with a steely swagger in its' gait. Just to re-inforce the good impression, they save a couple of real belters for the final act, too. Of these, 'Last Day On Earth' has a Bowie-ish sway to it thanks to the sci-fi overtones and rising strings and the closing 'The Birds' demonstrates an urgency and and grasp of pop hooks this writer had previously thought them incapable of. It's one of their very best songs, though it's a shame they had to wait to long so foist it upon the world.
Sadly, it was all a little too late, as 'Ejector Seat Reservation' would prove to be Swervedriver's last major hurrah with Creation. With hindsight, it's a pity, as several of the bonus tracks here ('Flaming Heart' especially) suggest they were starting to forge a distinctive brand of psych-flavoured power pop. Still, rock'n'roll's littered with the corpses of thousands of 'what if' stories and the one Swervedriver left wasn't too bad looking at all. 'Ejector Seat Reservation' finds it twitching with life, even after all this time.
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