Film School Hideout by: Tom Bradbury Tue:20-Nov-07 Label: Beggars Banquet Year: 2007 WB rating 65 out of 100

When My Bloody Valentine recorded Loveless, they bankrupted a label and stole the hearts of thousands of musicians doomed to follow them but never grasp their genius. This is the way art has always, and will always work.

Film School is one of this army of bands, and their album serves as an example of what can go wrong, but also of how sometimes even a monkey at a typewriter can come up with Shakespeare. Not to say these guys are stupid or incompetent, but genius is near impossible to recreate, as Kevin Shields surely realizes given My Bloody Valentine have not produced another album in the 15 years after Loveless.

Film School have an icier, grittier sound than the typical shoegaze band, and sometimes this works in their favour, such as on the opening track of their new album, Hideout. ‘Dear Me’ is commanding rather than comforting, but draws enough power through its initial shock value, like stepping into cold Victorian waters. But on many of Hideout’s tracks the coldness is numbing rather than penetrating.

At their worst, or even at their most usual, Film School are profoundly impersonal, whereas shoegaze at its best is deeply connecting, permeating your body with warmness and wonder. Too often bands treat shoegaze as if it is some sort of formula: add textured guitars and shake with two parts muffled vocals to achieve desired effect. But this is a major misunderstanding of what the genre is all about - its undisputed masters My Bloody Valentine are mystical, elusive and most definitely not formulaic, their charm lying in their mystery rather than any simple combination of components.

True shoegaze is far greater than the sum of its parts. For my mind, this is why Blonde Redhead, while not really a shoegaze band, has managed to produce a better example of the genre than almost all the other bands out there devoting themselves exclusively to it.

Yet there are a few notable occasions on Hideout when Film School manage to escape this trap, producing songs that are more than mere genre pieces. ‘Lectric’, with its echoing, cascading lonely guitars, gives the impression that the music is happening in some far away place, perhaps on a jet plane in mid heaven it is so muffled, yet somehow it seems to be all around you at the same time – a sort of dreamy omnipresence abides.  Likewise, ‘Compare’ rediscovers the pop sensibility that is at the heart of shoegazer music, as interesting melodically as it is in its sonic makeup.

Too often on Hideout, however, there is an interchangeability and anonymity amongst the tracks - even after listening to the album a number of times, you still can’t recall many of the songs. There is a sort of, “you’ve nailed the sound, now what?” feeling. Film School seem so intent on creating the right aural aesthetic they lose sight of the tunes for which those sounds should be the dressing. If people only wanted to hear good production, there are plenty of albums already available to make listening to this one unnecessary – what Film School should be doing is providing new tunes of their own merit. That is what we need, and nobody is going to take too much interest until that is what we get.
The points where Film School rise above mere imitation to offer something of themselves are notable enough to make Hideout worth a listen, but they are too far and few between to make it a really good album.