1. Warm July
2. Anti
3. Twin Lakes
4. Tickets To The Fight
5. Anniversary
6. Michelle's Coming
7. Firelines
8. Reservations
9. Don't Make A Scene
10. Young And Able
Aussie acoustic duo Sodastream have been hoiking it all over
the world for ten - yes ten - years without the kind of commercial
success that, say, Crowded House have enjoyed during that
period.
This isn't to say that they've not been critical darlings -
their debut single was feted by John Peel and Moby, and they've
shared bills with Low, Yo La Tengo and the Mountain
Goats. They've even been named as one of the most relevant
Australian bands since the Go-Betweens.
However, fey guitar picking is bloody difficult to get
right, as countless bands from the Kings of Convenience down
can testify, and for every Jose-sodding-Gonzalez, there's a band like
Sodastream eating pot noodle in a tour bus somewhere wondering what
they've got to do to sell a few more records.
Third album Reservations is a step up in terms of production, if
not melody, from their previous efforts. Gone is the scratchy,
home-recorded warmth of their debut, Looks Like a Russian, replaced by
French horns, stand up bass and viola, and Karl Smith's lyrics and
vocals seem far more assured than the sometimes barely audible
mumblings of the past.
What hasn't changed is the focus of the songs, introspective, with a whole dollop of heartbreak permeating all but
the jolliest tracks. Trouble is, this is what stands out - Sodastream
haven't really pushed the boundaries of their craft in the past
decade, and it's frustrating. It's like picking up the new Mountain
Goats album, of which this is a close companion piece, and realising
that while it all sounds very nice, he's just doing what he's good at.
It's not that there's anything really wrong with that, and there
are some genuinely heart-stopping moments here, Tickets to the Fight
has the same brass-horn beauty of Badly Drawn Boy's The
Shining, and the title track raises the tempo somewhat with the
introduction (gasp) of percussion, a sweet love song begging a girl to
"Come back my way now, It's warm here... There's sunbeams and
reservations now."
However, it's the lovelorn balladry that is really
pushed to the forefront - hell, the protagonist even manages to get
himself arrested in the subtle Firelines, after he "came here to
listen, but you sent me straight to hell." Life in their sunny
hometown of Perth can't be that bad, can it?
Similarly, the violin-led Anti mentions "Rain soaked mornings" and "Days getting too heavy" - is
like arch-miserablists The Red House Painters setting up shop
down under.
Sodastream often show their capacity to create gorgeous
melody, even in the darkest of songs, however, too often they let
themselves become overwhelmed by melancholy, stifling an otherwise
encouraging album.