School Of Language Sea From Shore by: Dan Osmolowski Tue:01-Apr-08 Label: Memphis Industries Year: 2008 WB rating 72 out of 100

Stepping out on your own, from behind the shadow of a well-respected band, can be a daunting task. There are many factors to weigh up and many outcomes to be considered before going it alone; if the album flops and the critics’ come knives out, the pressure on the band to produce a decent follow up can be enormous. The same situation applies if the solo outing is successful – outplaying the band proper places a burden on the entire dynamic of the collaborative process, especially if the successful recording has not come from the band’s chief songwriter.

David Brewis birthed School of Language after Sunderland trio, Field Music, announced they were to take an indefinite hiatus following their well received second album, Tones of Town. A wholly solo project (save for some scattered contributions from fellow Mackems, The Futureheads) Sea From Shore is a solid collection of angular and arty, post-punk pearls. The use of alliteration and assonance, in this instance, is deliberate; you see, Sea From Shore is underpinned by a chopped up, ‘arpeggiated’ loop of what sounds like Brewis repeating vowel sounds – this effect used to varying degrees on the four tracks that bookend the record, creating a catchy, albeit intentionally flippant, concept.

The ‘Rockist Part 1’ is brilliant pop, built on the aforementioned vocal sample, bouncy bass and melodically sparse guitar lines it’s representative of the album’s qualities as a whole: jaunty, quirky, clever and catchy. ‘Poor Boy’ cranks up the fuzz bass and stiff drumming in an Andy Partridge love-fest that is worthy of comparisons to the English great’s best work with XTC. Indeed, it is from this same post-punk scene where Brewis draws most of his inspiration; on Sea From Shore you can hear the ghosts of Wire, Gang of Four and Magazine rattling around his brain. This may come as no surprise to fans of The Futureheads or Maximo Park but, don’t be fooled, the album is much more than homage.

School of Language is the Sunderland scene’s own, more inventive, unsullied and vibrant musical sibling. Brewis eschews much of the baroque pop that punctuates Field Music’s work in favour of substantially more aggressive and constantly shifting dynamics. It is an album that has been intentionally crafted to capture and hold the attention of the listener. This is what makes Sea From Shore a good album as opposed to just an acceptable one; it’s clearly not stream of consciousness music but instead has been drafted, constructed and re-constructed with a very firm nod toward a real, kinaesthetic audience.

This holds true for the sequencing of the album as well. Brewis pulls the old Motown trick and leads with his best work, packing the front with bouncy pop and an instrumental melange (‘Rockist Parts 1 and 2’), ramshackle melodic rock and jagged new wave (‘Disappointment `99’ and ‘Poor Boy’). It is in the album’s middle section, however, where the tempo and interest levels drop markedly. ‘Keep Your Water’ provides an acceptable counterpoint in the form of some reflective balladry, but ‘Marine Life’ and ‘Ships’ sees the work of his day job in Field Music come prominently to the fore. These tracks crank up the melodrama and unfortunately (I hate to say it) have me imagining Silverchair’s Daniel Johns at the helm of this slowly sinking ship. Thankfully, the situation is righted by the return of some gritty and visceral musicianship in the form of the lurching, ‘This is no Fun’ and ‘Extended Holiday’s’ tuneful buzz.

Cognitive psychology suggests that we are more likely to remember those things presented to us first and last in a list and this is exactly the case with Sea From Shore – not least of all because those in the middle are less than memorable for reasons that have less to do with neuroscience, and more to do with aural aesthetics. Cleverly, the reappearance of the arpeggiated vowel loop in ‘Rockist Part 3 (Aposiopesis)’ and ‘Part 4’ close the album reminding us of Sea From Shore’s strengths, rather than its weaknesses.

Still, it’s hard to shake the feeling that this could have been (with the simple re-writing of two tracks) one of those year-end list albums, rather than one that you will invariably pluck a few choice cuts from for your 2008 mix tape come the festive season.