“The first album reminded me of "Columbo", this one makes me think of Richard III.” Quite how I Am Kloot singer/songwriter Johnny Bramwell makes the connection between TV’s grubby, cigar smoking L.A.P.D. Lieutenant and a villainous King of England circa 1483 is up for discussion.
What is clear though, is that three albums in, the Manchester trio are still on course for world domination. It may be taking longer than first predicted by critics who, quite rightly, slavered over 2001’s debut LP "Natural History", but it IS coming.
The qualities that first drew fans to I Am Kloot are still intact on "Gods and Monsters". Their's is a brutal yet charming cinematic world which mixes romance and tragedy, vulnerable human warmth and raw muscular aggression. Like Edith Piaf they deliver tales of life’s harsh realities with passion. Like Leonard Cohen and Elbow their music has a touching melancholy twist. And like Badly Drawn Boy they are no strangers to catchy, sparsely arranged pop songs.
Kloot know the emotional power of space and subtlety in music. And Bramwell’s lyrics - sung with a voice not unlike Damon Gough’s - show that he knows the poetry of rainy late-night bus shelters and chip shop queues and the sadness that is the call for last orders. Indeed it’s his snapshots of warts’n’all humanity which touch the listener deeply. As the bands press release says “I Am Kloot are a Harold Pinter real deal to everyone else’s overblown, Cecil B de Mille mock-ups.”
Scene stealers here include the gentle lollop of recent single "Over My Shoulder", the visceral and sinister tale of murder, witchcraft and revenge that is "An Ordinary Girl", the twangy guitar "The Stars Look Familiar", the shambolic meaty rocker "Sand and Glue" and the jazzy, rough-edged feel of "Strange Without You".
Hell, it’s all rather marvellous, but it’s "Avenue Of Hope" and its apparent tale of lost hope which really tugs at the heart strings and is proof alone that Bramwell is one of our finest songwriters. “Don’t let me falter, don’t let me hide, don’t let someone else decide just who or what I will become”, he sighs, quietly defiant to a sixties noir film feel of gentle acoustic guitar, piano and muted trumpet. Not a dry eye in the house...
