Album Review : The Alexandria Quartet - The Alexandria Quartet
- Written by Alexander Tudor
Intriguingly-named, after the masterpiece by Britain’s-answer-to-Proust (that’s Lawrence Durrell, BTW), Norway’s Alexandria Quartet may not be as stately, literary, or narrative-focused as you’d hope, but with their squalling guitars and mellifluous strings behind hammered piano-keys, they leave similar fare by British acts in the dust.
More varied than Fanfarlo, and unhampered by the dreary lead-vocals of My Latest Novel, Alex Q (as they should so-o-o be abbreviated) push towards stadium-sized rock, like fellow Scandinavians, De La Mancha. Filling the breaks before a reprised chorus or solo with massively reverbed, long-held notes, it’s hard not to picture the music-videos for the bigger numbers in a desert-setting, or frontier-town. Of the better tracks, ‘Somewhere’ has a lovely, forlorn, Ryan Adams-at-the-piano feel to it (and similar vocal-tone), while ‘Get Lost in the City’ (at the other end of the spectrum) really should be sung by an entire stadium; the lead-guitar melody seems so familiar you’d think it’s already been a hit for Coldplay (after a course of steroids, though).
Obviously, Alex Q have English as a second-language, and the illusion that it’s their first (singing with perfect Received Punctuation that makes you despair of our piss-poor education) is actually possible because they’ve papered the cracks with clichés – a Bon Jovi-ism in one song (“shot through the heart…”), and a Velvets steal in the next (‘You Could Be My Mirror’ – same premise; arbitrary use of the subjunctive). Yes, ‘Montauk’ is named after the location of Eternal Sunshine’s first and last scenes, which tells you quite accurately that Alex Q are indie romantics, but the conceit of the song (to filch the romance but not the experimentation) reflects the band’s whole aesthetic. You’ve got the tunes, right? More experimentation, please. Whether there’s a connection between ‘Justine’ (the song) and Durrell’s novel (or De Sade’s) is hard to tell; with its Cult-ish darkness, it could be both, and in any case inspires one of their best moments. Anyhow – have a listen. Like De La Mancha (named after Don Quixote), the hubris of the band proves endearing, rather than prickling; let’s hope they push themselves to the greatness they’ve claimed.