For The Record: Kasabian ‘Kasabian’ (2004)

Leicester-massive Kasabian are now stalwarts on the British music scene.  Continuously playing live and releasing new tracks to generally warm reviews, it’s hard to imagine British Indie without them now.  For many, 2009’s ‘West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum’ is the band’s pièce de résistance.  And yeah, it’s bloody good.  However, the band’s first album sounded so big, brash and balls-out it was hard to believe that these were musical debutantes.  Indeed, perhaps making something that sounded that exciting couldn’t have come from any seasoned pro, only freshly stoned minds.  Personally I think that this album has been a little bit forgotten about – and I’m about to remind you why that’s a mistake.  Let’s go back…

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In 2004 Indie Rock n Roll had finally emerged from a kind of dark transitional period in the new Millennia.  In America The Strokes had remodelled New York cool for a new generation, and The Killers had just dropped the seminal ‘Hot Fuss’ adding some edgy electro vibes to the genre.  Over in Blighty, The Libertines had released two delicious albums, and were now very Britishly trying to take all of the drugs in London and kill each other.  But missing amongst all this was that band that you felt like you knew, the kind of lads you’d find in the pub on a weekend chucking change in the bandits and going quiet for Final Score.  It harks back to a more Nineties ‘Madchester’ vibe, where musicians seemed more like one of lads who liked a bit of guitar and footy, that familiarity vibe.  I mean, you could go for a beer with The Libertines, but it most likely would’ve gone a bit Class A and that’s not so conducive for banter, someone will get offended…

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And here came Kasabian.  Fresh from a farmhouse recording session (I use the term ‘fresh’ loosely) in an attempt to make sure the band sounded as tight as possible recording.  It was that old-school gang mentality mixed with a cutting edge sound that was so refreshing – Liam Gallagher said of them ‘You’ve got some bollocks…A proper band!’.  The reviews were cracking, there was a buzz.  Although The NME praised the self-titled debut, they slipped in a slight by stating that ‘They seem like the sort of people who salivate over mid-80s football riot footage’.  I never got the whole ‘hooligan’ references, just because they support their local team publicly, like many bands before them.  Perhaps this more obvious laddishness had been chastised in music, in favour of a more Byron-esque romantic cool.  I mean yeah some of the songs were a bit shouty, but the energy and that electric buzz, I mean that’s something we’d been missing in Britain.  Think about it, in previous years we’d been so bored that Dido and David Gray had been Number 1.  I mean for f***s sake – f***ing David Gray!!! I will always choose riots over that.

Right so the music… The album kicks off with one of the strongest openers you’ll find on any record, ‘Club Foot’.  Take my advice, DO NOT listen to this song with your amps lower than 11, you will be hurting the song.  It’s basically like pushing play and getting kicked in the face with awesome.  The hook and the riff are so simple but so catchy, so recognisable, it’s a big fat rubber stamp saying “this is who we are and what we sound like.  Don’t like it?  Do one, we can’t hear you anyway”.

Aside from the heavy guitars, for me there are two other factors that bind this album perfectly, stopping it from sounding like a staccato collection of tunes and more like a well oiled machine of an album.  First, just as easily as the boys can thrash a guitar, they can also turn it right down and go rhythm section heavy.  This is perfectly demonstrated on ‘Processed Beats’, ‘LSF’ and (my personal favourite) ‘Butcher Blues’.  The groove on these songs penetrates the ears forcing an approving head nod, drizzling down to the hips making it impossible not sway along.  It’s a bass/drum combination worthy of Mani/Reni comparisons – bluesy and powerful.  Well, The Guardian did say it’s how ‘The Second Coming’ should have sounded – no small compliment.

The second is an unbridledly good use of synth.  After all, they were a bunch of self-confessed stoners, and what says trippy more than the sounds ‘Close Encounters’ popping up to say hello (see interlude-style tracks ‘Orange’ and ‘Pinch Roller’).  To begin with it’s merely peppering the background of the opening tracks, but by the time we get to ‘I.D’. we’re now floating through what feels like a haunted spaceship, ready to submit to whatever weird and wonderful sounds will be thrown at us next.  ‘I.D’. is an utterly stunning song, and it’s the use of electronica that propels this from lazy jam to a musical light show.

It’s not just a musical treat.  The lyrics are pretty obscene too.  Guitarist/Synth man Serge Pizzorno’s writing is the kind of twisted poetry on life and all things different that hadn’t been seen since Shaun Ryder.  Layer that idea onto a song like ‘Running Battle’ – the epitome of the rhythm/synth clash – it’s no longer cheeky ramblings, it’s a vicious and sinister call to arms.  Listen to that track in the wrong place at the wrong time, it will genuinely scare the s*** out of you.  Vocalist Tom Meighan is responsible for delivering the poignancy, and does so with a perfect prowess, he understands how to ride a beat.  He nails breathless, sexy anticipation on ‘LSF’, and owns the threatening vibe in ‘Reason Is Treason’.  Without doubt the stand-out track, ‘Cutt Off’, is his finest moment, and incidentally features one of the sexiest guitar breakdowns EVER from Pizzorno.  In a manner all his own he harnesses the great rock n roll story tellers to have us hanging on to his every word.  From ‘John was a scientist, he was hooked on LSD…’ down to the last ‘And if you smell those omens man, I think you better run’.  I think it’s his skills as a frontman that ground the band, making them sound more ‘of the people in the pub’ than lofty rock stars.  An underrated master of delivery, the laddish conjurer of lyrical sorcery.

Don’t tell me you didn’t forget about this album.  I bought it, loved it and listened to it so much I had to buy a new copy.  But for some reason it fell to the back of the shelves for a couple of years, maybe in favour of playing the newer material.  Or maybe because the Arctic Monkeys turned up rocking an even more down to earth swag (not so much anymore I know).  Hearing the closing chimes of the sultry yet vulnerable ‘U Boat’ I realise why I wasn’t as satisfied with later offerings.  Because Kasabian is an epically bold masterpiece that gave a much needed shock of adrenaline and a ruff knee to the groin of British music.  Lads, lager lovers, stoners, football hooligans – whatever.  Go dig it back out, have a listen, and tell me it doesn’t give you the same shivers.

Bottom line – it’s a really good album by really good musicians.  Real men play synths apparently.

Kate Tittley

Kate Tittley

Kate Tittley

When not making cocktails for Manchester's finest, Le Titts is most likely to be found the other side of the bar in a cloud of smoke and wine musing loudly over her fantasy band line up, love of the album format and why nothing is better than The Stone Roses. And then spilling the wine...Loving the ride with GigSlutz.
Kate Tittley

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