The Brunettes - 'Holding Hands, Feeding Ducks' (Capitol)
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
Let's get this straight; what follows is one of the most wonderful ways to start a band, ever. Boy meets girl, girl likes boy's pet cat, boy likes girl's Shangri La's records. They fall in love, shack up, find a rhythm-section in the mountains of New Zealand and call themselves The Brunettes. Granted, we have no verification if this tale is completely true, but this matters not. It's still enough to make manufactured pop-bands cry.
Just from that, you can spot the fact that you're in for one hell of a twee ride from a mile off. But halt your run to the hills, as if you don't find this in the slightest bit endearing, then you sir are dead inside. 'Holding Hands, Feeding Ducks' is an album that aims to bring the arts of toe-tapping and whistling back to the forefront of modern music, possibly dragging the phrase 'gee golly' along with it.
From the Spector/Velvets thump of delightful opener 'The Moon In June Stuff' onwards, it's often enough to make you swoon, always enough to raise a smirk. 'Cupid' even manages to make drunken love sound insufferably sweet, and the wonderful 'Dancefloor' sounds as if it's just fallen off the stage at Al's Diner in Happy Days. Imagine The Breeders if you could just get Kim Deal's smile onto record, or a more musically sparse Fountains Of Wayne if they only ever played high school proms or picnics, and then transport them back a couple of decades. No, it's not the place for wild innovation, but seeing as the 70s and 80s revivals went so well, who are we to dismiss a 50s comeback in its formation stages?
They mock themselves before anyone else gets the chance. Just when you're about to mention the film 'Grease', singer Heather Mansfield says how she could 'do with summer love with a girl named Sandy'. When Jonathan Bree gives a cautious call of 'I'm feeling like the dangerous type,' on the comedy-country romp 'Jukebox', it's all you can do to not venomously shout the words, 'No, you're not!' at the stereo. Then you realise that was probably the desired response anyway.
They may well be a joke, the circumstances surrounding their appearance on the scene quite possibly too convenient and charming to be true, but, quite frankly, who cares? The playfulness and retro mystery here are a large part of the charm. It's also unlikely that anybody will think you're particularly fashionable for loving The Brunettes, but on the off chance you find someone who does, it's going to be a match made in heaven.
OK, it's incredibly silly as only a record with the line, 'If you haven't got a boyfriend, this is something we strongly recommend,' can be, and, at times (especially towards the close), comes close to wearing thin. Also true is the fact that a record collection consisting solely of records as quaint and happy as 'Holding Hands, Feeding Ducks' would drive anyone irreversibly insane. But, after listening to this, a collection without it seems a much sadder prospect.
Artists in this article: The Brunettes
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