Razorlight have never hidden their greedy ambition to be stadium-sized MOR rockers with lorry loads of dosh. Understandable really; with the face of a horse and a personality Hitler would find egotistical, J.Bo needs something to help him pull more Hollywood hotties. So why does ‘Slipway Fires’ sound like a B-sides collection from their last album?
By surrendering their punkier roots, Razorlight’s second attempt was pure pop bliss and 2006’s greatest guilty pleasure. But for anyone hoping their third might be the bands raison d’etre, stuffed full of golden touches in the morning, the underwhelming and half-hearted tunes are cruel disappointments that leaves the listener yearning to be ‘somewhere else’.
Yet, I’ve begun to notice the album has had heavy rotation on my Ipod. Hmm…why is this? Could this naff pile of shite be growing on me? I’m singing along, tapping my feet and somehow thinking these nonsensical lyrics could be genius. Ok, scrap the last bit, “You are a night flower, You bloom as I fade” will never evoke more than a wretch, but melody wise, a few could sneak into a Razorlight greatest hits. ‘60 Thompson’ is Paul Simon gold, ‘Hostage of Love’ is jingly-jangly acoustic happiness, and ‘Monster Boots’ is a foot-stomper ready-made for Wembley.
Sir Johnny Borrell has baffled me. Half of Slipway Fires is glossy, forgettable, ‘Feeling’-like filler. The other half, however, is actually pretty good and gives hope for the next one. Though to be honest, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, the middle class masses will love it and soon Johnny will be even closer to achieving his dream of being God. I’d prefer him to be Jesus, at least then we could crucify him.