The Dardanelles Mirror Mirror by: Ed Butle Wed:28-Nov-07 Label: Mosquito's Tweeter Year: 2007 WB rating 66 out of 100

These days, many reviews contain the words ‘genre-hopping’, ‘mish-mash’, or ‘mélange’. It seems to be de rigueur for new bands to be defined by how many different influences they can wear on one sleeve. So when a new Aussie band releases their debut album, promoting it – in their own words - as ‘a mural, a chutney, a trash and treasure’, some measure of cynicism is due. By now it has reached the point where bands seem to set out with the intention of making music that simply can’t be sourced from any recognizable antecedent. However, while the attempt to create music in an effort to be labeled as genre-hopping can be noble, it can also result in a lack of direction and cohesion. 

So, to the Dardanelles; The very same band that used the word ‘chutney’ to describe their burgeoning sound, this bunch of Melbourne lads have released their debut LP, Mirror Mirror. Named for the straight off the Turkish coast in which numerous naval battles took place during the Gallipoli campaign, The Dardanelles certainly do qualify as a veritable smorgasbord of influences. Indeed, Mirror Mirror is disparate; the band’s influences all competing fiercely for prominence amongst a cacophony of conflicting, yet strangely harmonious reference points. The reference points that do make it through such a rigourous screening process are primarily Joy Division’s disco gloom married with Nirvana-esque guitar flourishes and the occasional contribution from what sounds like about one quarter of Kraftwerk. 

Opening with ‘Introduction’ (does an instrumental track not deserve a name? It really isn’t mysterious if it’s been done a million times already), it sets the tone of things to come. It’s pretty standard, uninspiring new-Aus rock, now that Midnight Juggernauts have set the precedent, with danceable rhythms and occasional splashes of electronic colour, but ultimately it’s profoundly forgettable, as most opening tracks called ‘Introduction’ tend to be. However, ‘Introduction’ segues into ‘Alone is Not’, and suddenly things begin to look up. Driven by a potent bass riff and forceful rhythm, it powers along impressively until about three minutes in, when suddenly, it appears to begin channeling the thunderous catharsis of the magnificent climax to Sigur Ros’ eighth track from ( ). And it’s deeply impressive. 

Unfortunately, that’s about as good as it gets. There are other highlights, notably the title track, with probably the coolest groove, hookiest vocals and best disco rock chorus around right now: ‘Footsteps’, which is utterly chaotic dancefloor rock that manages a theremin solo (always an automatic qualifier for bonus points), and ‘Dominoes Dance’, which probably borrows most heavily from the Interpol/Joy Division milieu, conjuring images of a hellish disco. But the problems inherent in making such a musical alphabet soup become apparent when the rest of the record is played; Mirror Mirror suffering from a fairly severe case of multiple personality disorder. Not in a cool, Edward Norton in ‘Primal Fear’ way, but more an Edward Norton in ‘Fight Club’ way. All these personas seem to get in each others’ way, conspire against one another. It’s Disco versus Dirge on occasion; Joy Divison vs Radiohead vs Midnight Juggernauts vs the Presets vs {insert appropriate current in vogue band here}. ‘Cycles Repeat’ and ‘Morse Code’ attempt to bring drama and pathos to the fore, but just succeed in being boring. 

It seems that vocalist Josh Quinn-Watson’s voice is a touch weak and homogenous to bring the band’s intent, which seems to be to illuminate some dark subject matter (with strobe lights), to fruition. The mark of a great frontman is his/her ability to hold things together during the weaker patches through talent or sheer force of will. The Dardanelles sometimes feel the need to resort to studio trickery to divert attention from this, and it usually fails. None of this is to say that Mirror Mirror is a bad record. There are enough good tracks to suggest that there is a future for The Dardanelles. After all, Radiohead’s debut was hardly a sterling effort and The Dardanelles can certainly write a good hook. Quinn-Watson, however, needs to reassess the value of an occasional melody, as he tends to fade to the background when his bandmates hit their straps. But when everything does click, and the various incarnations of The Dardanelles’ various personalities find themselves in sync, it can be very thrilling indeed.