RED LIGHT COMPANY - FINE FASCINATION

They formed in 2007, come from lots of places, have released four singles, and are now releasing their debut album; Fine Fascination on indie imprint Lavolta. They sound a bit like The Editors, a touch like White Lies and a lot like U2. They sound a tad like The Arcade Fire, a smidge like Figurines and a portion like The Flaming Lips. They’re anthemic and pop sensible while being gloomy and gothic – but they’re not Morrissey or The Cure. They’re a lot of things.

 

There’re five of them and they came together through internet shenanigans (not like that!). Bassist Shawn Day answered an ad placed by singer Richard Frenneaux on the Tuesday, and the band had their first gig on the Friday. This wouldn’t be so special but for the fact that Day answered the ad from Wyoming, and hopped on the plane the next day. A few immigration issues and a bunch of ‘best of British’ bandmates (James from Bridgend, Chris from Maidenhead and Paul from Motherwell) and Red Light Company was born.

 

A few months later and their first album is here. Their sound is grandiose posturing, the sort of epic tenacity made tawdry by the likes of terminal do-gooders U2 and Coldplay, but then reclaimed by genuine believers like the Arcade Fire and Annuals. At times on Fine Fascination you could be forgiven for wondering why Win Butler is putting on an English drawl.

 

Fine fascination flits from upwardly promising to genuinely catchy, but then drops all too easily into dullness and filler. Early promise comes in the form of ‘hit single’ Scheme Eugene with it’s reprise about playing Broken Social Scene with the Eugene of the title. You can imagine yourself pumping a fist in the air: a similar thrill to that which came with the first listen of The Kissaway Trail’s last album.

 

But, like the Kissaway Trail, Red Light Company ultimately leave you wanting. There are too many insincere ‘U2’ moments (incidentally the album is proudly produced by Adrian Bushby, who’s worked with the U2). The brooding First We Land floats around in the background like Where The Streets have No Name era, and never quite hits its stride, and When Everyone Is Everybody Else has Bono written all over it.

 

Perhaps the album’s finest moment is when Frenneaux’s voice sounds most like Christian Hjelm of Danish indie-rock band Figurines on With Lights Out and album closer The Alamo. These are the pop moments that you can believe in. Sadly there is just too much insincerity to fall for these guys.