Voxtrot Voxtrot by: Tom Bradbury Mon:28-May-07 Label: Beggars Banquet Year: 2007 WB rating 71 out of 100

It was always going to be extremely difficult for Voxtrot to live up to the hype that has surrounded them for the last 18 months, and the short film Reaching For The Lasers, which chronicles the making of their eponymous full length debut, shows that they were definitely feeling the pressure. Voxtrot is a flawed album, one that shows the band at their best, thoughtful and emotive, and also at their worst, crippled by over-consideration.

Voxtrot rely heavily on the endearing nature of Ramesh Srivastava’s voice. His clarity is unrivalled, every word is precise and thoughtfully weighted, giving his vocals the qualities of both spoken word and singing. There is a pronounced earnest quality to his style, almost like a younger Chris Martin, and he has a lyrical bent that is equal parts literary and everyman, accessible while still being clever – “I am learning how to be lost completely” on ‘Ghost’, or as he sings on ‘Blood Red Blood’, “I’m just trying to do my best/I’m not afraid of life, I’m afraid of death”. On paper some of Srivastava lyrics might be greeted with skepticism, but it is his vocal appeal that saves a line like. “You have to touch me with Kid Gloves” from cringe-worthy status. Instead his vulnerability lends the song an emotional impact it may have lacked under a different vocalist.

Album opener ‘Introduction’ has the feel of a first act, beginning with quiet strings before the rest of the band enters the fray. Srivastava sings, “Your sun sets when my sun starts to shine”, and this atmosphere bodes well for the rest of the album. Instrumentally, Voxtrot demonstrate remarkable restraint for a band so young. They may employ traditional emotive devices, such as the aforementioned strings, but there is always an air of understatement. On ‘Stephen’, a Beatle-esque piano ballad, Voxtrot saunter effortlessly though Srivastava’s ode to his experience of living in Glasgow. Never does it feel like they are forcing material too much, as is so often the case when youthful bands attempt these sorts of songs. There are also other instances on this album where Voxtrot get it completely right, their arrangement skills realised in catchy tunes and powerful chord progressions. ‘Firecracker’ features a spectacularly well crafted bridge of ascending guitar, bass and vocals in melodic unison, which makes the chorus only the more explosive, as Voxtrot bring the instrumental climb to a climax in a track that very much lives up to its title.

It is this combination of Srivastava’s lyrical and vocal fluidity and the band’s instrumental thoughtfulness that enables them to rise above the pack of anonymous indie pop groups scattered across the western world. Yet Voxtrot’s overwhelming pleasantness is also one of their weaknesses. The second half of the album is much less consistent than the first, with some songs best described as inoffensive, – pleasing to listen to but with little impact, failing to reach the promised potential. ‘Every Day’ is symptomatic of this problem, a mid-tempo track that’s wonderfully produced, but once you scrape below the layer of icing there is little cake to hold it up. Nothing really commands your intention. Vocally uninteresting and instrumentally unadventurous it is an exercise in blandness. The band deserves credit for the fact that they did not recycle any of the material of their EP’s, but a ‘Soft and Warm’ or ‘Mothers, Sisters, Daughters and Wives’ could have given Voxtrot more weight.

‘Ghost’ is a like a microcosm for the whole album, demonstrating where Voxtrot have succeeded and failed to make use of their strengths. It often feels like Srivastava is trying to cram as many words into a verse as possible. This generally gives Voxtrot’s material a purposeful feel and a distinctive sense of forward momentum. Yet often this momentum never amounts to much. ‘Ghost’s string accompaniment conjures the atmosphere of an autumn stroll through the park, orange-brown leaves swirling in the wind and Matt Simon’s drumming is just what is required, expertly building tension through minor increments in volume and expansion in kit use more reminiscent of jazz than rock ‘n’ roll. The mood is set, and the sense is that a powerhouse melody is approaching, yet it never quite appears – its all build up and no release.

Voxtrot have failed to deliver on the promise of their EP’s. There are more than enough reminders on this album of their talent, such as ‘Kid Gloves’, ‘Firecracker’ and ‘Stephen’, but this isn’t the debut that everyone was hoping for. It’s a hit and miss affair, demonstrating all the elements that make Voxtrot a great band but providing too few occasions where they all come together harmoniously. Yet it’s worth remembering that it those that have the most expected from them that receive the harshest criticism, and from a lesser band this album might be considered a breakthrough. It’s not a bad album at all, but Voxtrot are capable of much more.