Marseille Figs - The Dirty Canon (Cargo)
2/5
By: Chris O'Toole
An international super-group, of sorts, the Marseille Figs are an American county band from London and Berlin. They have taken the insular, geographically exclusive genre and infused it with a dash of international cosmopolitan flair and a sense of humour to create a drunken, sprawling hybrid.
Front man J. Maizlish - who also plays guitar and ukulele - is the only member of the band with an American heritage; half way a through a journey out of California when he met Dorian McFarland in Marseille. McFarland plays accordions, whistles, blues harps, Jewish harps and horns and the triptych is completed by Tom Chant on saxophones, clarinets and keyboards. Eclectic is not the word for the group; producing as they do silver sharp turns of phrase and pace, largely based around Maizlish's lyrics and the quixotic instrumentation of his follows.
On their first album, The Dirty Canon, the group mix the perverse streak of The Hidden Cameras with the rocking charm of Hamell on Trial; covering a full range of emotional ground, ranging from balladry to brawling to drooling. They are once engaging and entertaining, but also disposable, tongue-in-cheek and a little forgettable. Opener 'Low Low Thing' gets the album moving nicely, and is a little misleading as the band seem unable to reach the same pace over the remaining eleven tracks. The story of a lowlife, down-and-out serenading his valentine with a quick wit, the track epitomises the group; guitars strum, according lurch, words tumble, harmonies waver and we all tap our foot in unison.
'Caesar's Revenge' gives the spotlight to the saxophone at the start before becoming a little maudlin; shadow filled lyrical insight with its heart on its sleeve. The next few numbers follow this losing suit before 'Boxcar Charlie' comes sauntering in; a marching song for a primary school children. The feeling is high-quality barn dance as the album progresses. Yet the group seem to be pulling in different directions, everything seems improvised and consequently impoverished. In a word, amateurish. There is some virtuoso playing but it is too heavily diluted by intermittent squawking, screaming, faux femme-fatal harmonies and jug band feeling.
'Eh Joe' and 'Skin & Bones' continue along the railroad tracks, stomping quietly. On stage I can see an entertaining ensemble, belting out goodtime tunes to a red faced audience. Sitting at home in the rain, the spirit does not transfer well to record. 'Where the Night Begins' heralds the slow decline toward the end. Everything seems a little too shallow, a little too contrived. Be different, by all means - but be good.
Download MP3s of three tracks from 'The Dirty Canon' HERE.
Artists in this article: Marseille Figs
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