Head Band

Stick it up yer garrett!

THE GULLIVERS – TIME TO TIME (demo)


Though we all aspire to being twisted black-hearted cynics encamped in dark garrets sneering at the menial world’s artistic endeavours, there’s nothing we reviewers actually like more than to watch a band grow and improve, and beneath our stern patrician veneers we all urge to nurture musicians and see them reach greater heights. So it’s with a jubilant spirit that I announce the arrival of the new demo from Bicester punks The Gullivers, comfortably their best recording yet. Their early work was a less than inspiring missive from the overcrowded vandalised playground ruled over by The Libertines, but slowly they’ve been creeping out from under this undesirable shadow and beating their sound into a more cohesive shape.

Special mention must go to vocalist Mark Byrne who sings with a naturally accented honesty and doesn’t try to disguise any lapses in tuning. He has a voice like bruised fruit, forever edging up to the melody then dropping away, sounding oddly like a snotty young version of namesake David Byrne, and this gives The Gullivers a refreshing sense of openness. No posturing here, no showboating, just that pleasurable but all too rare beast called straight up pop-punk, with its heart in the twilight world of suburban ennui.

“Panic, Rush” displays the more melodic side to their writing, but the recording’s title track, with it’s rhythmic bounce and neatly placed handclaps under the choppy guitars, recalls local punks Junkie Brush, albeit with a lighter touch. In fact, as the recording goes by it becomes clear that there’s a pop band hidden in The Gullivers somewhere, and it will be interesting to see whether the sneering nihilism or the whistleable tunes eventually get the upper hand. “Morning After (The Night Before)” has all the Johnny Rotten vocal abrasion you could wish, but somehow it still sounds like the distant cousin of blur’s “Globe Alone”.

This is no tragedy, and the lighter tones make the music that much more individual: only final track, “Hierarchy”, lets us down, plodding along insolently despite the opening bars’ promise to turn into a drizzly cul-de-sac version of “Paint It Black”. So there’s work to be done yet, and I’d be lying if I claimed this were an entirely satisfying, fully-formed band, but things are moving in the right direction with increasing urgency, and who are we to argue with that? The Gullivers already sound like themselves, which is a trick so many bands forget to pull off, that I’m going to sound my support.

That felt good. You know, I think I’ll give the old garret a lick of paint and open the windows.