Inspiral Carpets: Inspiral Carpets

In the liner notes for their self-titled fifth album, each member of Inspiral Carpets reflects on getting into the recording business again after nearly 20 years away. It’s the sort of tack that is usually reserved for reissues or career retrospectives, and you can’t help but think it feels more like a rationalization than a declaration of purpose.

Did anyone really miss these guys, anyway?

Though they had a loyal following and a fair amount of chart success in their native UK, Inspiral Carpets always seemed like second-tier members of the “Madchester” scene of the late ’80s and early ’90s. Less catchy than the Charlatans, less talented than the Stone Roses, less charismatic than the Happy Mondays, they got by on the a modest grooviness, Clint Boon’s neo-psychedelic Farfisa organ, and the occasional catchy chorus as delivered in the rich, Paul Weller-like voice of singer Tom Hingley.

As for Inspiral Carpets, four-fifths of the peak-period lineup return. Boon’s organ stabs are as front-and-center as ever. He is still pretty good at delivering a tripped-out, freakshow vibe. The other two signature elements of the band’s sound, however, are mostly absent. The band have talked about how this is a “garage” record, getting back to their ragtag indie roots. Sure enough, they generate a calculatedly ramshackle rumble. The problem is that rumble is pretty much the same for most of these dozen songs. Same medium-fast tempo, same buzzing bass, same drums that sound more like tin cans.

The homogeneity is so pervasive that the few exceptions stand out. Boon goes into full-on, staccato Doors mode on “Calling Out to You”, whose near-swagger and strong chorus exude a confidence that is missing from most of Inspiral Carpets. The shuffle rhythm-driven, wah-wah-heavy “Forever Here” is a true Madchester throwback. Sure, it sounds just like a Charlatans song from 1990 (and that song was “Then”), but at least it gets that groove going. “Flying Like a Bird”, the one ballad, is pretty and swoopy, with a satisfying, wordless “bah-dah-bah” chorus. With its twinkling keyboards and moody minor chords it’s like the band’s own version of Joy Division’s immortal “Atmosphere”. In this case, though, sincerity makes up for any lack of originality. Such is not the case, though, with “A to Z of My Heart”, whose melancholy, singsong melody is lifted straight from the Jam’s “Man in the Corner Shop”.

So the groove is intermittent at best. And Hingley? Well, he’s gone, having left the band in 2011. The new vocalist is Stephen Holt (no relation), who was actually Inspiral Carpets’ original, pre-fame vocalist. So Holt is in the strange position of being measured against the man who once replaced him. Holt’s voice is similar enough to Hingley’s that casual fans at the band’s live shows probably won’t notice. On record, though, it’s missing that richness and depth. Opening track “Monochrome” is all-too-indicative of Holt’s style. In addition to being flat, he has a tendency to pitch down at the ends of lines. Maybe it’s an attempt to convey “attitude”, or maybe it’s just bad form. In any case, Holt often sounds more like he is proclaiming lines than singing them.

The lyrics, apparently written by the band collectively, mostly fall flat, too. There’s a lot of would-be defiance and swagger. Maybe the band feel that way, but a group of forty-somethings proclaiming “Young and indestructible…This is our time / You can’t hold us back you can’t keep us down” doesn’t ring true, especially in the midst of an embarrassing attempt at a two-chord rave-up.

Thankfully, the rest of Inspiral Carpets isn’t as bad as “Our Time”. Still, it doesn’t do much to quell the impression that right now these guys are their own biggest fans.