As Philip Larkin once said of the Bible - "it's beautiful, but it's bollocks". And while the same doesn't strictly apply to the new High Llamas album, Snowbug, there is still a strong case to be made for filing this work under "beautiful", but still reserving the right to wonder about its content. Melodies meander all over the shop, rhythms drift in and out and songs seem to disappear half-way through. It's all a bit strange.
You never expect the three-chord singalong from Llamas main-man Sean O'Hagan, and you certainly don't get it here. On the up side, Snowbug is a loose-limbed, chilled-out affair that will have you nodding your head in compliance. Very simple and delicate, the underlying strands speak of that lovely French 1960s pop sound (the sound you only seem to hear on film soundtracks) coupled with a bit of Brazilian rhumba-type stuff and some of that good ol' Californian surf vibe. There's an interesting choice of instruments used here; some subtly sparse acoustic moments and an improvised, jaunty "one-take" feel to the roceedings.
On the downside, what's missing is a sense of completeness and focus. It can all wander offside at times and the thin line between indulgence and innovation is often criss-crossed. There will be a great album delivered by Sean O'Hagan soon: I don't think this is it. An ex-member of Cork's angst-tastic Microdisney, O'Hagan promised an awful lot with the 1994 release of Gideon Gaye, which only cost £4,000 to make but was later picked up by Epic records and re-released around the world. A marvellous, if inconsistent, album, it spawned the single Checking In, Checking Out (a huge hit in Europe, even though some people mistook it for a Steely Dan cover).
It was on the next album, though, that O'Hagan got it all together. Hawaii (1996) was, in a word, extraordinary and any list of the top 10 Irish albums of all time is woefully inaccurate without it. Without taking away from its vibrantly original tones (it was, at the time, the perfect antithesis to so much Britpop dreck), Hawaii was the sort of album that Brian Wilson would have released in the late 1960s if he hadn't been derailed by all manner of illness and addictions (and first cousins).
Hawaii may not have gone triple-platinum, but it did find its way on to the turntables of The Beach Boys, who were so impressed by it that they invited O'Hagan over to LA to produce the much-anticipated Beach Boys "comeback" album. Not surprisingly, Wilson and Love couldn't decommission their mutual antipathy and the project was scrapped - but not before O'Hagan got to play a live gig with them (getting to do back-up vocals on I Can Hear Music).
Since then, O'Hagan has released Cold And Bouncy and the re-mix album Lollo Rosso. If you don't know his music, start with Hawaii. If you do, I hope I'm wrong about Snowbug.
Snowbug is on the V2/Alpaca label.
The Dead Elvis people are back amongst us and they're holding a joint album launch in Eamonn Doran's on Monday night. A mere £6 entrance fee will secure you a free copy of the new Wormholes album, Parijuana, and a copy of Alan Lambert's debut The Man Who Cycled To The Moon. There'll also be a live gig by both acts, as well as turns from Pet Lamb and the Jubilee Allstars. Doors: 8.30 p.m . . . An excellent new album from Dublin band Pugwash is well worth checking out. Called Almond Tea it's all very powerpoppy in a Beatles meets Big Star meet The Raspberries sort of way. Not that influences govern the sound, though; Pugwash have a good new take on matters. It's the sort of album that could be played as much on daytime radio as the night-time shows (but hasn't yet been, oddly enough) and you can get a chance to see them live when they tour nationwide some time next month.
Brian Boyd can be contacted at bboyd@irish-times.ie
