Josiah: No Time

Josiah’s No Time is an album stocked with unabashed old school influences – “what classic UK rock is all about!” proclaims their website – and a guitar tone that sounds grounded in the ’70s. They’re so retro, in fact, that they even adorn themselves with aviators and pose in black and white in their liner notes. Not that there’s anything wrong with paying your debts; but, with the popular explosion of acts like Jet and Wolfmother, retro style is becoming ever harder to tolerate. This is further confirmed by wailing vocalist Mathew Bethancourt, who comes out over the bluesy distortions as a watered-down crossbreed of Ozzy Osbourne and Robert Plant, and compounded by the songs, that have as much elegance and cohesion as an aged car changing gears. “No Time” exemplifies the record’s structure to a ‘t’, built around one vocal line followed by a stampeding metallic riff, set to a midtempo slog and strung into oblivion. The former carries on its clunky instrumental homage for two and a half floor-dragging minutes before singing even makes an entry. “Time to Kill” almost raises proceedings to a gallop, but musically it’s just a sped-up rehash of the other eight here. Sure, as clone music, you’d probably take it over the emo kids any day, but No Time is so faceless that it’s unable to function as real rock and roll in 2007.