Yahoo! Music Album Review

Released on 11/08/08
Label: Zarcorp/Parlophone

"Fantasy Black Channel" is a frequently ridiculous record. Or at least it should be. From the off the Castle Donington troupe's debut opens up before the listener like a vast citadel of pomposity, the first, wailing notes of "Hot Tent Blues" laden with all the self-prescribed destiny and doom of an Iron Maiden guitar solo. The comedy metal doesn't stick around much longer than a minute before the band decide they'd rather be playing something else - a kind of acoustic indie'n'bass perhaps, or some Prince-baiting funk. It should be ridiculous and nauseating but somehow it's not. Not completely.

Instead, Late Of The Pier negotiate this minefield of epic sonic failure with a combination of confidence and the melting goo of their own, fickle brains. The task the young quartet set themselves - that of harnessing so many different musical codes - is one that would have most of today's indie brood screaming for mother, but Late Of The Pier are delirious in their pursuit of plot twists, barely settling into one groove before running off, loon-eyed, after the next.

Sometimes the diversions are welcome, sometimes they're really, really not but Late Of The Pier seem to realise their own salvation comes through such a fugitive approach to songwriting. Probably because they have a habit of doing things that would be very annoying if they did them more - witness the romping, chariots-of-all-holy-Armageddon guitar lines and Matt Bellamy-esque squealing of "Focker", for instance, or the crackpot chem-lab skronk of "Random Firl". That these irritations soon subside, respectively, into scathing electro and the strident heroics of "Heartbeat" is testament to a self-awareness that embosses the braggadocio of lines like "I'm sh*t hot, so say what you think about me / I'm not gonna cry, 'cause I, I don't care" ("Space And The Woods").

Saving best for last, Late Of The Pier close with "Bathroom Gurgle", the aptest of pop summaries and a song that starts damp-eyed and synthy before giving way to an audacious falsetto. This, in turn, becomes an electro stomp-a-long and by the song's close, lead singer Sam Eastgate is talking in tongues. It's hard to understand what he's saying, but such weird language seems to suit. While most are bound by the conventions of whatever indie micro-scene they're attempting to slot into, Late Of The Pier are a daring, if not always impressive, proposition aiming to conquer the grey areas of your imagination where ambiguity can flourish.

    by Kev Kharas