Schnapps - Nasty Buffet
I've heard tribute bands before, but I've never heard a half-decent one that isn't conscious of its own bended salutation. In this case lead singer Jnr Crawford seems vocally adjoined to the tongue of The Voidoids' Richard Hell. The genetic similarity seems to stretch as far as the tonsils. I mean to say that Hell's immaculate writing style isn't chromosomally passed, his arm-pitting sweating aesthetic isn't reborn and his scowly face isn't to be seen (not at least in the rainbow coloured press release I received).
Basically this guy sounds like Hell, but isn't. And by waiting until third track 'Walk Faster' you realise this dogged fact faster than reading the previous paragraph. Here the band turns from sparse scuzz practicing the underground beat of '77 to mumbly-mainstream-cashiers, CA-CHINGING the copper rattle of corporate money-makers. In the case of Schnapps the motive for this inclusion isn't a note-sniffing venture but a definitive lack in direction - the diet of nasty buffets clearly fucking up their collective balance, fat ankles and all.
The opening 'More to Life than Peach' is Schnapps' best track and it's quite impressive. 'Ice Cream' regresses to looting the already vandalised bank vault of 'indie' - forging the signature of independent music to dip into its lofty overdraft. A shouty-shitty skid-mark of pretend individualism rubbed all over the underpants of this Scottish quartet. The rest of the album merely limps on with the fifth track 'Lazy Fish' containing the eerily prophetic out-drone of "LEAVE ME ALONE... LEAVE ME ALONE".
But for all of Nasty Buffet's dirty production & naive misdirection it shows ability with its hopeful opening. It's just a shame Schnapps rushed to release this bad album after showing something promising during their initial 2minutes & 47 seconds of sound. It's not fair on them and it's really not fair on us.