Hello music lovers!

Sorry this one is coming a bit late. On Friday, I accompanied members of the Features department on an excursion to the Methow Valley, so my blog resources were inaccessible for a time. Besides, I figured it’d be a good opportunity to do something different with the formula.

I picked out the latest release by Scottish band the Fratellis. Despite enjoying this type of glam-rock, Brit-pop music, I find I have a difficult time describing the sound of it. That alone implies it’s unremarkable, and that’s certainly not what I aim to imply. It’s fun, upbeat (at times even offbeat, and I mean that in regards to its character, not its rhythm) and draws comparisons to quite a range of musical influences, such as David Bowie (I’m really beginning to wonder what modern rock isn’t inspired by Bowie), the Beatles and Elvis Costello.

Thus, I subjected my workmates — Family and Faith reporter Rochelle Feil and my esteemed Go!-pilot Jefferson — to “Here We Stand” ($13.98) so I could get a more accurate take on it for my blog, and so we’d have some tunes for the road. After sifting through our dialogue, I’ve selected commentary for the standout tracks that excludes our tangents unrelated to the music.

As the album set off with “My Friend John,” Rochelle decided that she likes it. “I worry about what’s gonna happen to John,” Jefferson said. “Sounds ill-fated.”

“A Heady Tale” began, a tune I enjoy because it resembles a good saloon tune; there are not nearly enough bars with pianos in them these days. “Ooo, Ben Folds,” Rochelle squealed. This turns out to be one of her favorites.

As “Shameless” started in, Jefferson immediately recognized an influence I’d overlooked. “These guys sound Social Distortion-y,” he observed. “There’s sort of a psychobilly style,” he added as the song progressed. In fact, a rockabilly element was one of the first things I noticed when I heard my first Fratellis song, “Creeping Up the Backstairs,” a couple years back. “They also understand counterpoint,” Jefferson continued. “They understand you don’t always have to be loud.” Though not the most memorable song on the record, “Shameless” became the epoch of the conversation, where each person seemed to reach a point of cohesion on how they regarded the record.

“Look Out Sunshine!” evoked a good amount of chatter. “Did he say ‘cynical c***?’” Jefferson asked.
“It sounds like he did,” replied Rochelle.
I confirmed the suspicion.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word in a song before,” Rochelle mused.
“That’s what’s so great about Scottish people. It’s part of their everyday speech,” said I.
“It’s what they call their friends,” Jefferson stated.

Aside from lyrical anomalies, the tune also managed to prove itself one of the catchier songs on the album. Energetic and melodic, it makes an impression.

A favorite of Jefferson’s, “Mistress Mabel,” didn’t have the same impact on me and Rochelle, though she does now admit it sounds better on a second listen. We all agree it’s not one of the better songs in the tracklist, but it is appropriate as a single because, as Jefferson put it, “it’s approachable.” “It’s catchy enough for a summer single,” he claimed. “It’d get your attention on the radio.”

As the record played on, more comparisons were drawn among us, such as the White Stripes and Rod Stewart. Responding to “Lupe Brown,” Jefferson mentioned “it has that boozy, womanizing vibe to it.”

Songs that have replay value, as is the consensus from the listening session, are “My Friend John,” “Look Out Sunshine!” and the album’s closing track, “Jesus Stole My Baby.” While hearing the plight of the latter song’s subject, whose girlfriend essentially left him for a bible, Jefferson expressed his sympathy for the poor lad.

Though they found it enjoyable, my associates agreed they would not buy the album, but would also not turn down a listen were it suggested again. Rochelle’s already given it another round in her car since the trip. I have a feeling that at this point, she may think it’s worth shelling out money for.