- Music
- 20 Mar 01
This mini-album had its genesis in the Irish tour undertaken late last year by The Frames, Jubilee Allstars, David Kitt and Dave Cleary, but it's calibre makes it more than just a souvenir of that jaunt.
This mini-album had its genesis in the Irish tour undertaken late last year by The Frames, Jubilee Allstars, David Kitt and Dave Cleary, but it's calibre makes it more than just a souvenir of that jaunt.
The Frames, of course, are the highest-profile of the acts featured, so it comes as no surprise that their 'Star, Star' is the lead track here. While it will already be well-known to most of their fans through its inclusion on Dance The Devil, it is outstanding by any yardstick. To these ears, Glen Hansard and co. have always been most effective when they keep their songs understated rather than blasting into overly brash, epic arrangements. On 'Star, Star' they get it just right - Hansard's voice rarely rises above a fractured whisper, the lyrics are part plea, part proclamation, and the music is deft and subtle.
The Jubilee Allstars follow-up with 'Evening Brings Me Home' with Barry McCormack ditching the rest of the band for 'After This Low'. Both tracks are typical of the Allstars' output. Langourous and minimal, they may not be mind-blowing on first listen, but their charms soon become apparent. The former is another addition to the band's expanding repertoire of great Dublin songs, namechecking Protestant Row and the Rathmines Road, while the latter is a dark lullaby on which McCormack ponders life, pain and death. It sounds grim in theory, but works well.
David Kitt is being touted in some quarters as the new Irish songwriting contender. 'Song From Hope St' doesn't prove the case one way or another. It's melodic and utilises interesting sonic textures, but is ultimately too whimsical to impress.
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The only really weak link here comes with the contributions of Dave Cleary under the monicker 'Mr Deasey Mooneye'. While 'Barberosa' sounds mildly intriguing at the off, such pleasures pall well before it wends to a conclusion somewhere over the seven-minute mark. 'Steeltwo' doesn't do anything to shake the feeling of pointlessness.
Occasional drifts into self-indulgence aside, Come On Up To The House . . . is a solid and sometimes inspired mini-album. It's unlikely to change your life, but it's certainly worthy of your attention.