No Darth, I am your son!
I was sitting on the train during the week on the commute home from the day job staring blankly out the window when a group of suburban teenagers boarded. There they were talking shit loudly and quoting frat-boy comedies to each other in that generic American accent we all do when I suddenly thought; 'I'm listening to The Raconteurs – fourth generation classic rock at best – in my shirt and tie'. The realisation being: I'm old; I have more in common with dudes in their thirties than these kids. Maybe I should have realised this before but no, I am estranged from the 'yoof' in many ways I hadn't considered. The most relevant factor being musical taste. I haven't a clue or a care what's in the chart or what indie landfill act is drawing school leavers into packed tents at summer festivals. Thus when it comes to The Elijah it's hard to get into their mindset, their motivation. There's a lot of angst here. I'm not angst ridden, certainly not in the way that this melodramatic collection of songs seems to be to these ears it just comes across as horrifically earnest fluff.
The group consists of Sam Harrison handling guitar and orchestration, Dan Tomley on vocals, Sam Jones and Jakub Taylor bring the rhythm and Michael McGough rounds them off on guitar. The group have taken it upon themselves to construct a home studio and write and record an EP of five shoegazing emo tracks. Vocals are alternatively screamed and warbled. The synthetic orchestra whirls with a worrying lack of intent and tempos stay firmly in the middle of the road. This all makes for a fairly one paced dynamic.
Influence wise there are shades of Isis, late-period Mogwai and a defanged My Bloody Valentine in The Elijah's approach. All accomplished artists you'll agree who either made or defined their genre so this is a comparison in sound only. The playing is certainly accomplished and the arrangements possess moments of subtlety: the short piano coda to 'I've Let The Devil Win" for instance, but "A Son: A Disease" is mostly self defeating pedestrian laptop rock.
My blood neither raced nor boiled except maybe during the wailing on 'To Keep Her Safe". The abiding response when listening to "A Son: A Disease" was one of nullified distraction. The material is low-key to the point of anonymity. The writers of the record are undoubtedly heartfelt in their motives but this EP is perhaps one for the kids but then what would I know?