It’s a shame to be writing this review, the reason being that after releasing this, their first album, it was reported in 'this is South Devon' and also the band’s MySpace page that SALTSTON had decided to call it a day, with all proceeds from the sales of this CD or download going to cancer research. This is a real pity, as the album is a very good debut.
The album is a blend of Britpop style music mixed with elements of new wave, and at times the band come close in their sound to Oasis or The Jam. However, what sets them above thousands of like minded groups is the quality of the lyrics. There is some excellent storytelling going on here, which in part reflects the landscape of their South Devon lives and touches upon the alienation that goes with living away from the big city. For example on ‘Newlyweds’: - “Now it’s easy to dream your life away. When you live where most people holiday/ An endless cycle of treading water. Father to son, mother to daughter.”
And : - “The grass is green over the hill. Well I’ve been there but I’m here still.”
The opening track, ‘Back Lanes Beano’ is done very much with a late period Beatles rock melody, the sort of style that Oasis hit the big time with in the early 1990s, however, the vocals are anything but, raw and powerful, yet still managing to convey a wistfulness and nostalgia for the good old days in a small village: - “Climbing up trees, riding bikes down lanes/ With the sun in your eyes, oh those were the days.” However, in this case there is a sting in the tail, with the subject of song now grown up and trapped within the same old environment.
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‘Spent youth’ is an excellent new wave number, with a jerky stop start rhythm which is a bit like The Jam, or The Jags when they were good. The lyrics are all about the drunken chancer down the pub with the chat up lines who gets to score: - “Woke up Sunday morning – checked the sat-nav/ Delete my number from her mobile phone then sneak out the back.” Charming!
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’Ti’nt Bad’ was for me, the best track on the album, a song of some searing bitterness against small town life and how it lets you rot, this isn’t life, merely existing: - “From when you’re thirteen, and you’re sitting on a bench/ Frosty Jack’s in one hand, feelings to quench/ To when you’re 21 and your friends have all gone/ Off to Uni – You’re at home hanging on/ To when you’re sixty plus, and still rattling around/ The same old alehouses with the same old clowns.”
When a band can write material this good, it’s a pity that they’ve decided to call it a day, just as their debut album is released. Hopefully this will garner enough good reviews to make the band reconsider their decision. If not, then this is a fitting epitaph for a band that, I feel, could have really made a difference. R.I.P.
Saltstone on MySpace
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