It is not often that I review out of sheer anger and disgust, but something happened today as I was wandering along, completely coincidentally listening to this album....
I always took it as a given that The Coopers were one of those innate underdogs, competent and inspired musicians who just happened to be spurned from true mainstream acceptance by the disfavour of the zeitgeist of the early 00's, but bolstered by a loyal and uncompromising fan-base. It is a sad fact that they have been tarred with the indie brush, and disregarded as chancers. Seeing copies of this masterpiece sitting forlornly on the shelves of a high-street music store sale, offered to Joe Public for the measly sum of £3, instilled me with the sudden urge to jump to "Kick Up's" aid. Ok, neither of the Coopers album attempts have broken the mainstream in any major way, and fair enough, most people know more of the tracks from "See This Through", and can thrash along happily without much regard for the nuances of TCTC's distinctive style, but the second offering has much of the experimentation and subtlety (Coopers....subtle? I hear you cry) that their debut could not afford.
The thing that always strikes me about TCTC tracks is how lyrically diverse they are, and how much emotion they afford to put in to their music which could otherwise diverge to farcical metal cliché or soul-less prog / electronica. How many people have REALLY listened to Blind Pilots? I mean REALLY. But hang around, and I'll try and land this review.... This second album has as much promise as the first, and more than that, it shows really development of a novel sound. If snooty reviewers want to ask what they have been doing for the last three years then it is in their current live shows you can grasp the metamorphosis of these tracks from their conception and laying down, through years of relentless work and touring.
After the relative calm of The Same Mistakes, Promises, Promises is a rager! Hear it live and strings fly across the room, synths implode, kids in stripes loose teeth on the barrier, and you wonder if Gautrey will ever speak again. New Toys is simply a lyrical masterpiece, driven by incessant drum-machine loops and synthesised brilliance / nonsense. Talking to a Brick Wall is not a live track, and more the pity. A strange beast, that crawls towards you bruised and broken, but then leaps up with unprecedented force and tears at your ears. Music Box is relatively unassuming for half of its duration, and a possessed metal-head breakdown for the remainder. Written Apology is the most 'against the grain' track on the album by far. Piano intro and singing! Singing! What will this disintegrate in to?
While they still have flourishes akin to the techno breakdown at the end of 'Apology' then they will always be one of the most excitingly crafted bands of recent times in my mind. An album full of shocks, smirks and wide eyed wonder. In conclusion. If you are near Musiczone anytime soon, then please please please (!) buy this album, and insist on giving the cashier more than three quid for it! (It'll confuse them if nothing else)