Kasabian: West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum

I return with apologies for the month-long hiatus. This has been enforced by a recent house move. Rest assured I've not been resting on my laurels since my last post: this partly as a result of misplacing my laurels in the chaos of brown cardboard boxes. But I jest: I've been progressing my self-inflicted task of listening to the 2009 Mercury nominated albums.

This review brings up my first challenge: Kasabian. I feel like that should have a few exclamation points after it. Kasabian!!! They are rather a declarative lot. I've been entertained by their pseudo-deep pronouncements about the album of futuristic music that was ahead of it's time. I'd never really clicked with the singles I'd heard. So now I have to listen to a whole album? Really? And what an album title...

From the aforementioned single listening, I had a vague idea of what to expect. I was not really surprised. Underdog starts with a slightly wonky synth loop rapidly followed by an offbeat dirty guitar riff with a pounding drum loop. Then sixth-form lyrics begin to be declaimed. With attitude. Help.

So is there any evidence of futuristic music? Let's check the aural textures: Moog arpeggios; backwards echo; overlaid crackle effects. OK, maybe it feels like futuristic music for the 1960s. Or music for Oasis fans who want to be challenged slightly. The overall feeling is a bit cod-psychedelic and very derivative. If I had to describe it in two words: corny pastiche. My thanks to puns-R-us for that one. As an example: Thick As Thieves - could be either People Are Strange by the Doors or Sunny Afternoon by The Kinks. Slightly more comically, the track West Ryder Silver Bullet reminds me of the theme tune to either Trumpton or Camberwick Green.

To be positive and slightly less snide for a moment: these are very catchy songs. I have to admit to tapping my feet and swaggering a little when they're played in a shop or on the radio. It's just that beneath the surface, they net down to riffs and declamatory statements. It has the overall feel of a second-rate Primal Scream album. Wow, I managed to be non-snide until nearly the end of the paragraph. Sorry.

Listening to it again, I've got a sneaking sensation that much of the album was constructed by the album's producer, Dan the Automator, from snippets that the band recorded. I'd actually probably like it more if I was listening to it as a Dan the Automator album, which is an interesting philosophical debate for some point in the future. Darkened room, wet towels wrapped round head. That sort of thing.

In case you'd not guessed, this wasn't an album for me. I found too much posture, too little of interest. I'm sort of pleased that Kasabian exist: at least they provide music of some greater merit than the regular lad/dad rock. Just please don't make me listen to any more!

That said, if you want to, you can do so on Spotify, myspace or the Kasabian web site.

Before I go, there are a couple more things I need to get off my chest:

• I'm sure when they sing "Where did all the love go", they don't mean it to sound like "We're to dull to laugh at", but it does to me.
• It's spelt Swarfega, not Swarfiga.

Oh, by the way: the album title is derived from the West Riding Pauper Lunatic Asylum. Sergio Pizzorno from the band explains: "...I just first heard about it on a TV documentary, and the words just struck me. I love the way it looked and the feeling it evokes. Apparently, it was one of the first loony bins for the poor, before that it was mainly rich people who got treatment." So that explains it.