Kids in Glass Houses - Dirt

Kids in Glass Houses
Dirt

Seriously, what happened to good old-fashioned British rock and indie? It seems that Kids in Glass Houses are another band to add to a pretty damning list… if this record is anything to go by, anyway.

There seems to be a major obsession by many domestic bands that they must do everything like the Americans. Truth is, there are so many groups over there doing the same thing and for much better reason (the fact they’re born there might come into it), and it’s really starting to piss me – and a lot of other people – off.

Kids in Glass Houses is sadly one of them. After a few listens to their new album Dirt, I keep drawing a blank. It’s largely served as an accompaniment to my intense reading of comics Transmetropolitan and Kingdom Come (props to Vertigo and DC respectively, may I add); it’s not without its reasoning either.

Firstly, Dirt can’t really be taken seriously as a record worth listening to on its own because it’s actually quite annoying, but secondly – and perhaps most importantly – it commands no authority. It’s beige. It’s unoriginal. Water off a duck’s back.

As a result, I can continue to page-turn in the knowledge that no matter how many tracks there are, they’ll all follow the same rough pattern and one which won’t interrupt my train of thought, while handily covering up the silence which reminds me that I’m 23 and still reading comic books. I prefer to call them graphic novels, obviously.

Why do I dislike this album so much? Could it be the predictable structure of songs? Check. What about the power riffs straight out of a New Found Glory album? Check. And the vocals? Triple check. Dear God, why?! Why must British singers whine on in an American accent?

Well, let’s cut to the chase: many hear their adopted style from bands they like and decide that’s the only way they can sing. Despite many people perhaps shrugging off the concept of localised voices when it comes to vocals, it’s definitely true that they shine through. You could pick up Dirt in an unlabelled case and assume it was something from any late 90′s/early 2000′s band “doing their own thing”, which by extension means someone else’s.

Kids in Glass Houses are supporting Lostprophets at the moment. I can’t say I’m a massive fan of them either, yet it’s clear that the people going to those gigs will appreciate this lot as a warm-up act with their unique brand of rock. By unique brand of rock, I mean it in the sense of you going into a supermarket and seeing I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter as well as the uniquely-branded alternatives, such as You’d Butter Believe It and What, Not Butter?. Lostprophets are undoubtedly pretty happy that their inoffensive style won’t make enough of an impression to take any of the spotlight away from them, too.

The addition of Frankie Sandford, i.e. That One Wot’s In The Saturdays, lends this no credit, though luckily you can’t hear her most of the time. The high point for me came when I thought the next track ‘Maybe Tomorrow’ was a rehash of the opening theme tune from The Littlest Hobo, but damn them, they didn’t do it.

If you like your music original, don’t bother with Dirt. If you like it sounding like everyone else, what’s another few quid down the pan along with your diverse taste?

By Matt Gardner

Dirt is out on Roadrunner Records on March 29th.