Pleasant In Small Spoonfuls
With gas prices getting higher than Joe Pasquale’s voice after inhaling a canister of helium, winter this year could be a cold, bleak, drawn out affair that’s only happy when you resemble a block of ice and on the verge of bankruptcy. But fear not, help is at hand. Like the soundtrack to a bear’s hibernation, ‘Harpsichord Treacle’ is begging to shed some warmth into the world with The Superimposer’s own blend of 60s pop itching to ease those winter blues with sounds by apparently, according the obligatory and oh so useful press release, creating a sound that is “oozing from your i-pod like treacle from a Harpsichord with plenty of peace, love and harmonies” • sounds more like a strange 60s orgy but if rids the winter blues …
Having had a falling out with their previous label resulting in some unfinished works released because the band had supposedly ‘gone missing’, two piece The Superimposers have now gone it alone for their third album giving ‘Harpsichord Treacle’ a great DIY vibe along with a two fingered salute to the establishment. Hey, it’s no peace sign but its sticking it to the man so that kind of fits the 60s theme. And indeed this is an album that resonates firmly within that decade, bearing its influence bravely and boldly for all to see and swimming in tranquillity lined with a gentle pop mentality. With a wave of vocal harmonies ‘Anyway’ ushers in the album, radiating 60s nostalgia from every beat before ‘The Northern Song’ takes things up a notch with unashamed nod to the Beach Boys. Catchy and doused in feel good sentimentality, ‘The Northern Song’ can’t help but put a spring in your step, blocking out the cold with sheer sunshine fuelled beats that somehow manage to gain even more of a punch courtesy of ‘Make It All Better’s blasts of digital “do-wops”. Its 60s nostalgia with a slightly modern sheen but there is no mistaking The Superimposers’ love for a bygone time as their leisurely paced songs gently ease away the strain and breath warmth back into the room aided by saccharine • sweet melodies and authentic sounding fuzzy edges to truly make the decade come alive even if you won’t there the first time round.
The problem is despite what your grandparents preach not everything was better back in the day and ‘Harpsichord Treacle’ suffers because of its failure to realise this. As the album flows gently along its course there is little change injected into the mix; things don’t alter and so songs begin to melt into one another, resembling instead the gooey mess around the top of a treacle tin rather than the sugary sweet syrup and by the time Dan Warden and Miles Copeland put the final touches to ‘Harpsichord Treacle’ you can’t help craving something with a bit more bite and little less laid back, sugar doused pop. Like the sickly sweet substance it takes its name from, ‘Harpsichord Treacle’ is pleasant in small spoonfuls and whilst it may eradicate the winter blues for a short spell, by the end you’ll be longing for a cold blast to keep the sunny sickness at bay.