Explaining why some bands become hotly tipped isn't an exact science but one where educated guesses usually get you the answer. 'Usually' that is, but not always. Take The Thrills – a band so dull that their name must surely be in breach of trade description, but who were spectacularly eulogised by the critics. Thankfully, time weeds out true quality and they've since rightly tumbled back to Venice beach to play in the sand.
Which brings us on to fellow Irish lads, Hal. This group of seemingly harmless Dubliners - Dave and Paul Allen (vocals/guitar and vocals/bass), Stephen O'Brien (keyboards) and Steve Hogan (drums) - are acquiring the 'acclaimed' tag but want nothing more than to show the world how much they love the Beach Boys. And Simon & Garfunkel. Oh and the rest of America's, and particularly California's, rich pop history.
Homage and influence are one thing, the repetition and duplication here verges on plagiarism. It's difficult to concentrate on the music when this 'spot the rip-off' game is such a fun diversion. Ok, the songs are largely exquisitely crafted and the vocals are meticulously layered and delightfully sung but they're sticking rigidly to a 40-year old template. They might as well have changed their surname to Wilson and just called it "Paddy Sounds". Wouldn't it be nice if they could have made the sound their own somehow? The Super Furries excel whilst recycling similar influences. Then we'd rightly applauded this debut album.
Sadly it's not the case. “Play The Hits” is a straightforward 'surf and girls' era tune whereas “My Eyes Are Sore” drives into more challenging "Pet Sounds" territory, complete with leaps of (borrowed) imagination. Skip “Don't Come Running” and “I Sat Down” (Travis anyone?) but linger a little longer on the single “What A Lovely Dance” and “Worried About The Wind” even if they recall Britpoppers Dodgy at their weed-drenched best.
Naïve, twee, lacking imagination and pointlessly derivative on one hand but - with summer on the horizon and given a forgiving mood – this is also sunny, carefree and great background music to waft over your BBQ. Just remember not to invite Brian Wilson. God only knows what he'd make of this.
