Things begin to look decidedly shaky just sixty seconds into 'A Perfect Storm', the debut album from all-girl threesome Made In London.
Far from delivering the expected stylish blend of modern R&B we have been led to believe would be the cornerstone of their first album, a rasping Euro rock riff appears from nowhere suggesting that the girls have gone all Def Leppard on us.
In a musical motif which crops up throughout the album like an annoyingly persistent wasp, screaming soft-rock guitar solos persistently clash with sexy, sassy, bump 'n' grind R&B harmonies in a bizarre musical melee which, to be quite honest, works about as well as if Marilyn Manson were to become the sixth member of Westlife.
The reason behind this rather unusual musical direction is of course clear for all to see. With the record buying masses becoming increasingly indifferent to the endless stream of sub Spice wannabes being foisted upon them on a weekly basis, it has become absolutely crucial, if they are not to go the way of 21st Century Girls, for each new act to define themselves in the face of such savage competition.
Enter Made In London, the self-styled grown-up girl group. And what better way to express your grown up credentials than to smother your album with real instruments and overproduced epics.
Thankfully most of the material is not strong enough for any great tunes to be lost beneath this boringly competent muso production approach. Tacky guitar solos, faux emotional Carey-esque vocals and insultingly anodyne lyrics in the 'live your life how you wanna' vein appear to be the order of the day.
'My Friend' is basically All Saints minus the sultry charm and distinctive melody, whilst the extravagant squeaky brass and wah wah heavy arrangement surrounding 'Hit or Miss' simply sounds misplaced on a song so crushingly average
This self-consciously overblown production technique only starts to matter when it clouds what could otherwise have been a half decent song, as in the case of recent Top 15 hit 'Dirty Water' and in the perfect pop approach of '24 Little Hours'.
In the final analysis only 'Shut Your Mouth' a delightfully insolent Desree-style, understated melody survives this claustrophobically over-produced, genre-crossing nightmare.
