Better than Reef that's for sure.
The Coral are back.
2007 finds the band refreshed, refocused and rejuvenated after they took a well earned break from recording and touring...and fair play to them too. After all, they've had four albums in the top five since 2001 and eight top forty singles - and four of those were top ten hits to boot - so I reckon they'd earned a little down time.
The Coral were suffering from the departure of founding member Bill Ryder-Jones too who decided he'd had enough of touring after four hard years on the road. That left the rest of the band pondering if they should throw in the towel themselves. Thankfully they didn't...and Ryder-Jones considered too.
'Who's Gonna Find Me' may not be as chaotically eclectic as we know The Coral can be, but it's still got more invention, magnetism and chutzpah in its metaphorical little finger than all of Robbie Williams's tattoo-infested cadaver.
As usual, the throbbing drums, multi-tracked guitars and a bassline so thick you could spread it on tarmac and bring Porsches to a dead-stop are all present and correct - but rather than the frenetic (and frankly exhilarating) cacophony of musical influences that marked The Coral as a band that actually knew something about music - 'Who's Gonna Find Me' is a far more considered, refined and reflexive track.
And that's doing The Coral a disservice either. All artists evolve during a career - some for the good of the listener's ear (Siouxsie & The Banshees, The Clash) - and some for the bad (Guns n' Roses, Dire Straits) - the trick being to never forget what made people love you first time around while exploring new and exciting forms of self-expression. And no one is gonna convince me that 'Money for Nothing' is anything but a garish piss-stain on the y-front crotch of humanity - which is a shame because Dire Straits's first album is a fucking belter.
There's a great bluesy electric guitar solo buried deep into the mix of 'Who's Gonna Find Me''s chorus, while James Skelly's voice is as fresh and seductive as a grilled Arbroath Smoky swimming in a bath of warm glossy butter.
In short: 'Who's Gonna Find Me' deserves to be found.