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British Melancholy by The Hardy Boys
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"The Hardy Boys Mark Their Return...And Theres Not A Mancunian Accent In Sight"

 

Review by Harris Brine
Posted on 2011-10-21 07:30:37

If youve, this week, been engrossed in conversations about the reunification of a band whose highly-acclaimed debut release saw incredible success in 1989, only for them to self-destruct in the midst of personal inner turmoil amongst the members, chances are the subject matter would be those four Mancunians with a penchant for voluminous t-shirts and on-stage implosions. If nostalgic reunions from that year have dominated your dialogue but youre completely oblivious to the fact The Stone Roses are reforming, youll no doubt be highly anticipating the release of British Melancholy, the second album from The Hardy Boys, which is to be released next week a mere eleven years after its predecessor.

When there is such a significant division between a first and second albums release, there has to be an appreciable improvement or change of direction in order for it to be considered worthwhile. Fortunately for The Hardy Boys, the wait has been edifying. Much like a vintage wine, the passage of time has been generous and British Melancholy is an exhibition of a procession of maturity for the bands members into seasoned, cultured song-writers. It seems that, as the years have slowly eroded, theyve ensured their musings have been laid down with the most meticulous thought and patience. The eleven tracks have now decreased in pace compared to previous offerings - of course an expectation of age - and are now redolent of a sophisticated and analytical middle-aged lyricist. Despite vocalist Johnny Whites lyrics admittedly appearing overwrought with neuroticism, it seems such sensitivity has served as the perfect casket for his own fruit to ripen. On Ill Never See You Again, he painfully muses on an old flame with the lines, If only you knew/you haunt me/as much as I want you with such delicacy that you cannot but admire his internal sincerity, and the line My old faithful self hates the man Ive become/but my unfaithful mouth smiles when I hear your name appears in essence intensely self-critical but reveals astute wordplay.

Mare Nostrum revels, modestly, in its esoteric title (Its Latin for Our Sea) with the line as we sail through the next chapter of our lives and beautifully poetic analogies such as Venus hangs like a bright old jewel, like a lantern in the night confirm their lyrical progression as song-writers. They manage to convert the undesirably self-depreciating I Want You into a sanguine ballad, with its coexisting male and female vocals strengthening the theme that both sexes equally share very similar and very different imperfections simultaneously; sublime evidence of their musically manipulative capabilities as well.

Although the album can appear perhaps repetitive and somewhat hedonistic in its yearning, songs like And The Trains They Ran On Time, the catchy British Melancholy and Rest My Beautiful Muse are indicative that The Hardy Boys have relinquished their youth begrudgingly but appreciated the passed time permitting them to hone their musical talents. One critique is the careless decision to not place Rest My Beautiful Muse as the closing track, as the nine-minute number features impassioned vocals from additional vocalist Karlyn King, a penetratingly-familiar guitar riff and a rapturous ensemble broken up by a much-welcome instrumental. I can only speculate that an eleven-year intermission between albums would cause trepidation for the members as they nervously anticipate their fans judgement on this overdue release, and with that in mind its as if their penultimate tracks diversity is a sort of personal celebration; an accomplishment more than deserving of closing the album with maximum impact, which unfortunately doesnt happen.

That said, theyve certainly came a long way, both literally and figuratively, so any celebration would be perfectly understandable; its been a full twenty-two years since they released debut single A Wonderful Lie. On The Trains Ran On Time, White sings, Oh Manchester, so much to answer for, and the fervency over this weeks announcement is testament to that. It seems like the process of longing has been fundamental; no, not the constant yearning for a Stone Roses reunion, but the longing White has felt, and expresses so freely on the album, has provided the necessary conditions for The Hardy Boys to mature, and we can now open the proverbial bottle of much-anticipated vintage wine that is British Melancholy and savour it for all its worth. Thank fuck it wasnt corked.


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