Good Shoes Think Before You Speak by: Dan Grimsey Mon:23-Jul-07 Label: Brille Year: 2007 WB rating 46 out of 100

Hey kids, what time is it? It’s time for yet another post – Franz Ferdinand, post – Arctic Monkeys, British rock group.  So just in case your CD collection isn’t already overflowing with Futureheads, Bloc Party and Maximo Park CDs, here come Good Shoes. 

By this stage in the angular revolution a band would have to be pretty special to be noticed.  The market is already saturated by a million bands, with a million guitars, and several million pairs of Converses. So what do Good Shoes bring to the post punk-dance party?

Well, they do bring a certain sense of dorm party shenanigans, which goes along with the brightly coloured wooden play blocks on the album cover. As such Good Shoes stock traits are youthfulness, enthusiasm and a certain over-eagerness which is a rare thing to hear indeed in a world where everyone seems tired and bored with it all.  But despite their excitement about being young, about being in a hot band, about the fact that girls like them now because they are in a hot band, it doesn’t hide the fact that Good Shoes sound nervous and awkward – you nearly expect them to stop mid-song and ask ‘um… is this cool?’ 

But Good Shoes do also have another trick with which to differentiate themselves from the rest of the pack.  They have the ability to depict UK2.0 from the point of view of a very idealistic teenager.  This is mostly achieved by lyricism that promotes a ‘we’re so bohemian, aren’t we special?’ persona. Hardly catching breath between making snide comments at every mainstream value they hate, Good Shoes diss girls who shop at Top Shop, proudly boast their refusal to read the Daily Mail and denigrate anyone who conforms to Top 40 fads. The result of all this being, the establishment of a Good Shoes-verse where there are two types of people: US and THEM

Which is a very well trodden path to Brit-Pop stardom (see Jarvis Cocker, Morrissey), but lyrics such as “everybody says the same things/and think’s they are just so so original” (in ‘Blue Eyes’) would be far more convincing if Good Shoes weren’t doing the very act which they criticise, playing the same kind of sounds as so many other bands whilst proclaiming “I’m a talented artist” (in ‘All In My Head’). Then again, overblown self belief is another very well trodden path to Brit-Pop stardom (see Stone Roses, Oasis).

It’s ironic given how much they hate people who conform to society, Good Shoes seem to want to do nothing more than conform to their own local indie scene.  They know all the rules, such as that the songs should be short, the English accent exaggerated, citing the typical influences. But knowing the rules and clumsily obeying them doesn’t mean a sure-fire success, an impression which turns Think Before You Speak into something of a Complete Dummies Guide to indie dance club culture, with a target market of teenage boys just about to buy their first fake ID. 

Songs like ‘Sophia’, ‘In The City’ feature kids who are constantly clubbing.  Sometimes as in ‘Sophia’ this is almost beautiful, being partly a depiction of a night club by the unjaded, and partly a nostalgia reminder (“if you go back/ to where we first meet/ it will only/ break your heart”) of when you weren’t jaded yourself. And as far as being a guide to indie culture goes, Think Before You Speak does a pretty good job. 

But their inability to clearly capture, in song, the way that they feel is disappointing.  It’s as if, in knowing how a new NME band is supposed to sound, and in deciding to set out on a mission to sound like such a band, Good Shoes have pushed to the side much of their individuality. Good Shoes seem to have sacrificed all of these things in the hope that they will be accepted.
Hey kids, what time is it? It’s time for yet another post – Franz Ferdinand, post – Arctic Monkeys, British rock group.  So just in case your CD collection isn’t already overflowing with Futureheads, Bloc Party and Maximo Park CDs, here come Good Shoes. 

By this stage in the angular revolution a band would have to be pretty special to be noticed.  The market is already saturated by a million bands, with a million guitars, and several million pairs of Converses. So what do Good Shoes bring to the post punk-dance party?

Well, they do bring a certain sense of dorm party shenanigans, which goes along with the brightly coloured wooden play blocks on the album cover. As such Good Shoes stock traits are youthfulness, enthusiasm and a certain over-eagerness which is a rare thing to hear indeed in a world where everyone seems tired and bored with it all.  But despite their excitement about being young, about being in a hot band, about the fact that girls like them now because they are in a hot band, it doesn’t hide the fact that Good Shoes sound nervous and awkward – you nearly expect them to stop mid-song and ask ‘um… is this cool?’ 

But Good Shoes do also have another trick with which to differentiate themselves from the rest of the pack.  They have the ability to depict UK2.0 from the point of view of a very idealistic teenager.  This is mostly achieved by lyricism that promotes a ‘we’re so bohemian, aren’t we special?’ persona. Hardly catching breath between making snide comments at every mainstream value they hate, Good Shoes diss girls who shop at Top Shop, proudly boast their refusal to read the Daily Mail and denigrate anyone who conforms to Top 40 fads. The result of all this being, the establishment of a Good Shoes-verse where there are two types of people: US and THEM

Which is a very well trodden path to Brit-Pop stardom (see Jarvis Cocker, Morrissey), but lyrics such as “everybody says the same things/and think’s they are just so so original” (in ‘Blue Eyes’) would be far more convincing if Good Shoes weren’t doing the very act which they criticise, playing the same kind of sounds as so many other bands whilst proclaiming “I’m a talented artist” (in ‘All In My Head’). Then again, overblown self belief is another very well trodden path to Brit-Pop stardom (see Stone Roses, Oasis).

It’s ironic given how much they hate people who conform to society, Good Shoes seem to want to do nothing more than conform to their own local indie scene.  They know all the rules, such as that the songs should be short, the English accent exaggerated, citing the typical influences. But knowing the rules and clumsily obeying them doesn’t mean a sure-fire success, an impression which turns Think Before You Speak into something of a Complete Dummies Guide to indie dance club culture, with a target market of teenage boys just about to buy their first fake ID. 

Songs like ‘Sophia’, ‘In The City’ feature kids who are constantly clubbing.  Sometimes as in ‘Sophia’ this is almost beautiful, being partly a depiction of a night club by the unjaded, and partly a nostalgia reminder (“if you go back/ to where we first meet/ it will only/ break your heart”) of when you weren’t jaded yourself. And as far as being a guide to indie culture goes, Think Before You Speak does a pretty good job. 

But their inability to clearly capture, in song, the way that they feel is disappointing.  It’s as if, in knowing how a new NME band is supposed to sound, and in deciding to set out on a mission to sound like such a band, Good Shoes have pushed to the side much of their individuality. Good Shoes seem to have sacrificed all of these things in the hope that they will be accepted.