This Gift WB rating out of 100

Not to be confused with the Southern US Christian band with the same name, Sons & Daughters hail from Glasgow. Yet they share a certain revivalist zeal with their namesakes, albeit, one straight out of a Great Depression era/Grapes of Wrath psychodrama. Formed in 2001, This Gift is their third album.

While ‘Johnny Cash’ (The Repulsion Box) and ‘Dance Me In’ (Love the Cup) thumped along, granting Sons & Daughters recognition as true cow punk stylists, This Gift takes a more divided path, one with vocalist Adele Bethel occupying a much more prominent role. While the band’s trademark raw instrumental sound remains, producer (former Suede guitarist) Bernard Butler steers them so far into pop realms reminiscent of Blondie, it could well be Adele Bethel and the Sons & Daughters on the cover rather than the cohesive unit their name signifies. While the change in tact can be applauded for disregarding a winning formula, the main let down on This Gift is the lack of Scott Patterson vocals, the album missing his down-and-dirty charisma (ala ‘Johnny Cash’) and the potential for harmony from both vocalists. 

Opening with recognisable grunt, ‘Gilt Complex’ and ‘Split Lips’ promise sombre lyrics wrapped in a sheath of sarcasm – in these early stages of the album the band’s departure in sound appearing less than obvious. However, third track, ‘The Nest’, begins to reveal the new MO of the band, the song sounding strangely reminiscent of Edwyn Collins’ ‘A Girl Like You’. ‘The Nest’s introduction seems to open a sizeable gap in the band’s grit and aggression; a nagging leak that affects the middle of the album. Draining both energy and vigour, ‘Rebel with The Ghost’, ‘Chains’, ‘This Gift’ ‘Darling’ and Flags’ are propped up by Sons & Daughters relentless wall of distortion, yet the lacklustre production forces Bethel to the position of an outsider, whose voice hangs unconnected like a tacked on pop star trying to make it with a rock band.

Thankfully, ‘Iodine’ is more superior, its originality and cohesion a welcome change of pace. There is also further redemption with ‘House in My Head’ which has the fervour of an all-in revivalist meeting as the guitars and percussion come out firing. The harmonies get a chance to soar at last, with sombre lyrics that are plaintive and Bethel spilling her guts. “House in my head/has left me for dead/house in my head, I’m going home/...has left a funeral march in my brain.” Although it may seem like the band have left best for last, the album unfortunately doesn’t end on its highpoints: ‘Goodbye Service’ is nothing more than filler – ‘Positively Superfluous’ could have been a better title as Bethel’s voice grates on with an interminable “shooby doo, badda bing, baddda bup” refrain.

Sons & Daughters are at their best when they mine the deeper themes of outsider music – those conjuring up rebel yells and calls of the wild from the off roads of the indie circuit to the grittier streets of Glasgow. We get a taste of it in ‘Chains’ and a few other fleeting moments on This Gift, but the Betty Boop-ness of Bethel’s vocals have been removed too far away from her feral roots. It seems Sons & Daughters, like many other comrades, have sadly falling prey to over production and the lure of pop.