Sheffield's Harrisons are the latest in a seemingly endless line of angular, urchin type Indie bands, all sharp guitar stabs and abstract lyrics. Wishing Well bounces along, veering from Libertines-esque guitar lines to Futureheads awkward phrasing, guided by lyrics about what could be unrequited love: "You took my heart and hung it on a washing line" or finally putting things into place: "I've got the key and know where to go".
At the bottom of it, it's simple rock 'n' roll, rousing, infectious and catchy, as well as being more or less meaningless. Harrisons are the kind of band you can imagine building up an almost maniacal fan base, throwing gigs in bedrooms and never losing touch with the people that keep them in cheap booze and fags. The problem is, we've already had that, the well-worn t-shirt is starting to fray and Wishing Well isn't as poignant as Pete and Carl, or as immediate or clever as the other bands around at the moment, crossing Indie into the mainstream.
Harrisons might be Sheffield's answer to the thriving underground Indie scene, if The Arctic Monkeys hadn't beaten them to it. From the evidence of Wishing Well, it might take more convincing than this if they want to come out of the uber-hyped primates' shadow anytime soon.
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