It’s time, dear readers, to raise your glasses once again to the greatest music column in the history of the world, the ONLY regular album review to systematically compare its subject with a specific foodstuff. That’s right, people, for the first time since The Hashmark’s printed editions wowed the masses, “The Baguette” is returning to our pages.
Today’s album is Inside In Inside Out by The Kooks, and it gives off the distinct impression of being one of those “Brian Turner Classics” concoctions you get from the Co-op, cut precisely in half and packaged with the inside facing out through the cellophane window. This is because the product looks so appealing at first, with all its contents facing the customer, just as Inside In Inside Out is a fundamentally honest indie album with its heart very much on its sleeve. It’s even good for a first bite, with Naive prviding a streak of sweetness in the form of well-constructed indie-pop, the cranberry jelly, perhaps, to the rest of the album’s turkey’n’stuffing filling. But after a while, you realise that even this is very synthetic, and that the rest of the sandwich is rather dry and tasteless. You leave it for a while, hoping against hope that a break will revitalise your enjoyment. But when you come back to it, you curse your actions. For the sandwich has gone off, the bread is dry, and there seems to be some kind of dead insect in the mix in the form of the truly rubbish She Moves In Her Own Way. This album ha absolutely no longevity whatsoever, and you find yourself crying “Why? Why, oh why did I spend over a tenner, just to be grunted at by a surly youth in Virgin Xpress, to get home full of hopes and expectations, only to have all that torn away by this tragically bland, boring sandwich?” The lyrics to Naive end with the words “Just don’t let me down”. You did, Kooks, you did. Though you can’t see it when the thing’s in its pack, the filling doesn’t even go all the way to the edge. For shame.