Debut albums tend to fall into one of two categories: masterpieces or mistaken works. On the one hand, Joy Division‘s Unknown Pleasures was a calling card for a British band on their first go, and on the other, there’s U2‘s Boy, Irish ballads shaped unwisely by the group’s youth. Congratulations’ Join Hands is something of an in-between for congratulations, being neither a piece de resistance nor a creative failure, but an unfulfilled record that narrowly misses true pathos and potential. This Is Spinal Tap comes to mind, as this record isn’t fire or ice; lukewarm water.
Things start well with the bass-heavy “Fought 4 Love”, Jamie Chellar’s guitars splicing through the empty vocal spaces. Drummer James Gillingham keeps a steady, economical beat, inviting Chellar and bassist Greg Burns to decorate the sonics with bouncy, disco hooks. Frontperson Leah Stanhope sounds stentorian throughout “Dr. Doctor”, keenly dotting the microphone; a taut, John Deacon-esque bass cementing the intentions. True, the instrumental section is busy – too many guitars play concurrently – yet the sincerity of Stanhope’s vocal interpolations remains grounded in truth. “My Hair”, a power pop ballad coated in 1970s imprints, feels like a number Debbie Harry could have covered as a younger artist. Chiming guitars keep “My Hair” from becoming too pedestrian a sound experience.
Congratulations get carried away on “This Life”, an unfocused sound collage punched up by obtrusive synthesisers. Some of the keyboards ape Tony Banks from the Invisible Touch era; padded against pounding drums, the hooks lose their panache, and wither away. The curiously titled “Hollywood Swingers” is poor on a lyrical front; “Teach me all that I want to say” is hardly going to rival Ian Anderson or Bob Dylan for ornate poetry. Glaringly, “Hollywood Swingers” climaxes with a freak-out garage instrumental; an unwise attack on the senses, particularly for a closing number. “City Boy” puts the drums and percussion too high in the mix, distracting from Stanhope’s vocals.
It could be that congratulations are trying too much with Join Hands, and their inexperience will be rectified on subsequent recordings. “Bubbles” proves to be one of the album’s more successful efforts, largely because it sounds like it was recorded live on stage rather than in a studio. Bands often feel that the operational audio format is detrimental to the music, as bandmates have to lay down their instruments away from the others.
It’s too early in the group’s career to determine whether that’s a philosophy they should stand by, but “Bubbles” seems like a composition cut in a terrain where the guitarist, bassist, and drummer could watch one another with eagle-like attention. “Nevagonna” benefits from the bass locking in closely with the evolving vocal leaps and jumps.
Jingle-jangle rocker “I Feel Severe” comes across as a homage to early 21st-century guitar bands the Fratellis and Arctic Monkeys; the self-consciousness is evident from the opening bars. Keenly searching for a memorable riff, Chellar stumbles onto a tried-and-tested formula that served British rock for an uncomfortably long period of time. In some ways, “Johnny Hands” exemplifies what is strong and frustrating about the entire album: idiosyncratic verses and frenzied guitar lines build up a promising tune that never really takes off or goes anywhere especially interesting. Behind the frazzled guitar tones comes a germ of an idea that may have gone lost between writing and production.
When Join Hands works, the bass and drums fizzle to an exciting vocal delivery. Potential comes in many forms, and for congratulations, it stems from the musicianship: high and mighty, stealth and singular. Experience comes out of endeavours, and congratulations may strike gold with the sophomore piece.