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The Optimist LP | turin_l
DOE EYED OPTIMISTS Knights and Paridjanian brake for angst
Turin Brakes: Misha Richter

Credits

Lead Performance: Turin Brakes; Genre: Rock
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It's hardly scientific, but one can generally gauge the mood of a nation by its music. The recession of the first Bush presidency coincided with the rise of anguished alt rock; the now receding boom times hatched teen pop that glistened like freshly minted coins (and working class conscious rap metal as a counterpoint).

Hampered by train strikes, drearier than usual weather, and animals whose diseased brains are rotting away, England is currently in the midst of a national sulk. If there are any doubts, just listen to the rock dribbling out of the country. Even in a culture renowned for mope gods like Morrissey, the stream of post Radiohead bands like Coldplay -- delicate souls given to forlorn falsettos and music that only occasionally dares to soar -- is striking. The latest export, front runners of a new scene dubbed the New Acoustic Movement by the U.K. press, is Turin Brakes, whose debut album, The Optimist LP, arrives on our shores after receiving a hearty, if sigh heavy, welcome across the Atlantic.

As with the baffling overseas success of the late American folkie Eva Cassidy, ''The Optimist LP'' clearly speaks to something in the British psyche. Olly Knights and Gale Paridjanian, a.k.a. Turin Brakes, strum acoustic guitars, harmonize earnestly, and limit their rhythms to polite congas or drums while looking for either salvation or escape (in one case, to Mars). ''I panic at the quiet times/ Decisions at the door,'' they sing in the chorus of ''The Door,'' later adding, ''On the inside it hurts less/ The outside seems so cold.''

Given the right melody, as in ''The Door'' and ''Underdog,'' Turin Brakes make fragile, delicately understated music, a soundtrack for stasis and confusion. But just as often, they're weighed down by draggy tunes and unintentionally amusing lyrics (''The dogs are all gone & my muesli is mouldy''). The rifle toting narrator of ''Slack'' rescues a cat, only to kill it ''for liking me.'' But the effect isn't menacing, just silly. Like many of their compatriots, Turin Brakes should ingest a couple of two step singles and call us in the morning.


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