Dolphins - From Pickerel To Flipper Album Review
This is an album that is totally becoming of the Bradford trio’s roots and completely necessary for them.
rating: 3.5
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WebsiteFacebook Released: 1st June With a name like Dolphins, you would be forgiven for imagining this band were from sunny Miami and played carefree pop rock with production slicker than Danny Zuckos hair and auto tune turned up past the Cher setting. And, sure, the super-chicken yellow background of their BandCamp page does little to derail this assumption. However, once you hit play on From Pickerel to Flipper youre in for quite a shock or treat, depending on your view of the former. This noisy trio are in fact from post-industrial Bradford and their music is cut from an equally less leisurely, more working class cloth. The fact that this release is only available through their fairly rudimentary page on a grass roots website should really have been the first clue, come to think of it. This is the greatest credit that Dolphins can receive right now that over time the integrity of their background shines through more and more. For all intents and purposes Dolphins can be summed up by the label garage rock. Its riff after riff after driving riff, but instead of focusing on catchy melodies like, say, The White Stripes, they strip their music down to the rawest, most intense sound they can find to provide a pure shot of rock adrenaline. Having shunned the mainstream easy option, some would go for thrashing punk intensity which From Pickerel to Flippers mature light and shade tames in favour of a more percussive quality; try to outmanoeuvre Mastodons intricately hewn epics which these two-to-three minute slabs of gritty rock wont; or attempt to provoke or confound with poetical depth a la Muse or Funeral For a Friend which their lyrics and minimal vocal phrases certainly wont. Instead Dolphins have chosen to give themselves the self-deprecating description of noise rock, and this overall self-awareness works heavily in their favour. The album has a certain strut to it, but doesn't act bigger than its boots. It knows what it is, and that is primal, instinctual noise-mongering. Minor experiments here and there dont relocate the genres foundations, more like rearrange the furniture, but prevent sterility without any danger of crawling up its own ass. An acoustic ending here, an instrumental track there, all lead to mixing things up and give a lasting flavour. While this makes their songs more outstanding, Dolphins are still well within the trappings of their genre, and unless youre swept away by the tsunami of percussive energy youll find it one-dimensional. The more you realise that these guys are making riff-heavy, 'simple' music for reasons utterly unrelated to fame, money and hiding a lack of talent the more you appreciate their choices. http://youtu.be/CDpaZ56Rm9c Dream Theatre this aint, but it's intelligent in other ways. While its traditional musical credentials (song writing chops, melodic complexity, time-signature wankery etc) are questionable, theyre unnecessary in the shadow of From Pickerel to Flippers undeniable grasp of dynamicism. Which, one would hope, was their aim all along. This is what gives Dolphins their backbone. This is what prevents the grating vocal posturing from constructing the image of glammed up prima donnas with shitty haircuts, studded belts and sunglasses even in the dark who are just smacking a guitar with a shoe until they hurl back up their Bacardi Breezers. This makes everything on From Pickerel to Flipper sound intelligent and intentional. http://youtu.be/xktKTNnotyU This album is not about songs. It is, in the most extreme sense, about moods and one mood in particular. Its galloping drive, percussive dynamics and chant inciting vocals all scream for the end of the week, off the record, hell raising riot of energy that every working class man needs to expel. This is an album that is totally becoming of the Bradford trios roots and completely necessary for them. Its the complete antithesis of the cock rock, Vegas strip exterior that is, thankfully, shattered before long. Ditching the disingenuous name might help catalyse that realisation, though, and make their keen intellect less of a surprise...