Touted by just about every publication as being one of the next bestthings, The Stratford 4 leave a lot to be desired on this, their secondfull-length. Equally influenced it seems by My Bloody Valentine, TheCure, and scores of Brit-pop bands, their music is delayed anddistorted guitars with a pop sensibility. Officially, I would like tosay that this sound is going to take them absolutely nowhere unlessthey can improve the juvenile lyric-writing. The music is just fine,imploring pleasant melodies, grooving basslines, and lots of effectsthat make the guitars swirl and shriek behind them. Unfortunately, whatcomes to the forefront is just plain awful. "I went to confession but Ihad nothing to confess. They said what's wrong with you? You're usuallysuch a mess" is almost as bad as "If you want to kiss my mouth, tell mewhat it's all about, if you want to climb into bed with your delicatehead than that would be alright." This is a study in how to write likeDamon Albarn, with a great sense at times of what good music is, but nograsp whatsoever of poetry or prose. This music could stand a bit ofvariation, too, as it seems every song says what it's supposed to inthe first three minutes, then jams out a bit for the rest; or it jams abit in the beginning to build to the proper idea, then soars outtowards the end. The first song on the album, "Where the Ocean Meetsthe Eye," is the only one that shows promise in this sound, with quietbass joining chiming delayed guitars and slightly echoed drums. It allgets engulfed as the flames of loud angry distortion grow higher andhigher. The vocals join in at the height of the volume, and the lyricsare wailed in such a way that they aren't always recognizable. Perfect.Let the music talk and let the lyrics be puzzled over. If they'd donethat more, it probably wouldn't be so bad. Read More
