The Smallgoods Down On The Farm by: Justin Pearsall Mon:27-Aug-07 Label: Lost & Lonesome Recording Co. Year: 2007 WB rating 70 out of 100

For a while there it seemed as though classic pop may be a dying beast. After the heady, hedonistic Britpop-era imploded, the music world seemingly splintered into two factions: soft pop (Coldplay, Keane and Travis, bands soft not only in sound but also in inspiration) and garage rock (The Strokes, The Vines, The Hives). Thankfully though underneath this mainstream façade there have always been direct descendants of the ‘60s greats (The Beatles, The Zombies and Love), bands like Dr Dog, The Apples in Stereo and The Bees proudly flying the torch of the true and rightful pop tradition.

On first inspection The Smallgoods are another contemporary act carrying the ‘60s legacy. From the moody and psychedelic stage setter of ‘Intro’, to the heavy harmonisation of ‘Sadness + The City’ (think the infectiousness of ‘That Thing You Do’) and the hyper-fuzz of ‘The Driving Song’ there is a healthy smattering of all that made retro pop great on Down On The Farm. This in itself would make for a fine album, but The Smallgoods’ third and most ambitious release has more than torch carrying on its agenda.

The jaunty country ride of first single ‘Traipse Through the Valley’ is an early indication of the folk-pop duality of the album. The octave-apart harmonies and vocal layers cascade over one another, creating an ominous, psychotropic feel, the song’s intricate rhythmic and vocal arrangements invigorated through headphones. Similarly, the Sgt Pepper-esque jolt of ‘City Full of Sky’ and the barebones naturalism of ‘Home Song’, reminiscent of early Elliot Smith, sound vastly removed from the prep-pop of the album’s opening – somehow this hybrid between the corn-fed and the catchy gels, the record simultaneously existing in both pop and folk lexicons.

Whichever genre Down On The Farm leans towards one constant remains the same: the precise and masterful arrangements that dominate the record. Whether it is the hum of crickets on the alt-country ‘Campfire Song’, the reverse-recorded swell of ‘Jeune Du Fille’ or the enormity of the 30 person choir on ‘South of the River’ and ‘You Got a Friend’, the album has been painstakingly crafted – the two-and-a-half-year gestation between idea and end product justified.

However the versatility and exactness of arrangement, the qualities which ensure Down On The Farm’s success, are weakened by slight overestimations in the length of both the record and individual songs. Potential next single, the seven-minute epic ‘100 Red Buttons’, lags in the additional verses, taking too long to reach its stirring operatic and doo-wop finale. Similarly, ‘Now I See the Stars’ overreaches in its seven-minute-plus adventure – the track itself worthy, but its placement as the tenth track dampens the flow of the record.

With respect to The Smallgoods the decision to cut any of these songs would have been an incredibly difficult one – each individual track is worthy in some regard. Yet The Smallgoods would be well served following the example of ‘60s pop legends like The Beatles and The Beach Boys, acts who were unafraid to leave valuable – and even brilliant material (see ‘Penny Lane’) – from an album if it negated the success of the record as a whole. Such small term pain would have made a large difference to the digestibility of Down On The Farm, and while the record is still a strong release, a 10 or 11 song album would have been a more cohesive and enjoyable outcome.

Length aside, Down On The Farm is a pleasant and polished performance, the strong songwriting and universally impressive arrangements justifying The Smallgoods’ two-and-a-half year odyssey.