When one receives an album with a print-block style cover of a grinning band in top hats (and in the case of the lady, a rather short skirt), when one sees a track list that is mainly upbeat Celtic pieces, when the inside cover contains the words "Play Loud," it seems to me that the word that comes to mind should not be "dreary." Sadly for the Wheeze and Suck Band, this was the word that jumped to my mind as I sampled their sophomore release, Vincent Street. The Sydney-based band look and read like they ought to be a fun bunch, playing Celtic standards partly borrowed from the repertoire of Steeleye Span and similar groups, and partly original.
Yet the instrumentals seem to limp along, fast paced, but lacking in anything resembling a spark. My reaction was far less an urge to dance than an urge to find these folk and slip some caffeine pills into their whiskey. The most notable exception, the "Horse's Bransle", a dance about 400 years old, proves that they can, if given the right material, bring a brightness and energy to their music; one wonders why they don't do so more often.
The songs fare little better. "Lord of the Dance," the traditional take on the life of Jesus-as-dancer, should have been a bright warming piece, but instead drags through choruses that sound more morbid than merry. "Sammy's Bar" drones until it feels at least twice as long as it ought to be, especially as the story is a simple one of unrequited love, shore towns, and drinks. It had the feel of "I've heard this before, and better done," in every aspect: lyrics, music, performance. "Warlike Lads of Russia," a song that at least manages some good cheer, still comes out as repetitious and gloating, to the point of being tedious in another way entirely.
"The Boar's Head Carol" is actually a fine a capella take on this old standard, and even "The King" is listenable, though not much more. The a capella effect doesn't fare as well for "Mad Tom O' Bedlam," however; which drags in spite of the clever insertion of some subtle, strange instrumentation as the song progresses, and some less subtle percussion. It also makes the cardinal mistake of having an awkward new verse added which makes reference to the band; the second song to do this through the course of the album. I find this self-reference cutesy at best, and doing it clumsily, well, that's a real killer.
"Sailor's Life" actually comes out rather well, for while the singing is back to being dreary, the song itself actually works with this approach, as it is about a young girl learning her lover is drowned at sea. More, the instrumental breaks are some of the best moments on the album, with hints of a progressive rock attitude, in spite of the apparent acoustic nature of the instruments.
"Tyburn Fair," the best of the songs, manages to catch a wistful tone instead of a dreary one, the story of the events leading to a young bravo's hanging. It contains another good instrumental passage by two fiddles and what sounds like a mandolin playing interweaving lines. The closing tune, "The Madcap Laughs," is a short but pleasant hammered dulcimer piece, another of the few pieces that manages brightness and energy.
Unfortunately, on Vincent Street the notable tracks make up significantly less than half the album. The remainder is wearing, making one wish desperately for the fire and energy the band should have, but only seems to achieve in short spurts.
