Goodbye to All That

Rubyhorse has trotted a long and winding road since their humble beginnings recording songs in a Cork City meat processing plant. Moving to Boston in ‘97, the four school friends earned themselves a name playing residencies in Irish bars, eventually propelling their debut album beyond the pint-swilling ex-pats to the mass audiences of Dave Letterman, Conan O’Brien and Good Morning America. On its release in Ireland – no doubt partly influenced by the American media hype – Rise was embraced with sufficient enthusiasm to merit their sanctioning as the winners of Best Hope at last year’s Meteor Awards.
And now we have the Hopeful follow-up album, the success of which would ultimately depend on your interpretation of Hope. Hope of the mind-blowingly-innovative-approach-to-artistry type? Hope of the fostering-Irish-music-as-long-as-it’s-embraced-by-international-masses variety? Well I’d say Rubyhorse are right on course for the Hope for upcoming artists of the marginally-left-of-middle-road variety. The album is an inoffensive pop-rock affair that regularly meanders into mildly interesting waters, pleasing more than it bores but offering nothing really exceptional. To do away with the hyphens: don’t believe the hype, don’t get your Hopes up and you’ll find this record enjoyable.
The overall sound strikes with a sense of déja-ecouté, with heavy stylistic influences from Coldplay (cf. ‘Undemeathe, Fell On Bad Days’) and a vocal metamorphasis that moves between Chris Martin, Thom Yorke and any generic American balladeer. That said, most songs work well on their own: the moody ‘Company Men’ (with it’s Michael Stipe-y delivery), the hypnotic lullaby ‘Some Dream’ (though an unlikely album opener) and ‘Never Grow Old’ – a nostalgic meditation with a sweet whistle solo and lovely, lonely lyrics (“Paper planes and wooden cars/Elevators to the stars/Where in the world are you now?”). Nice melodies, nice melancholy and generally catchy tunes for the safe album that it is.