Album Review: Redcoats - Redcoats

Melbourne retro rockers Redcoats land with their first album following a blessed couple of years belting out psychedelic '70s pub rock housed in the catchy, fresh tracks released on last year's self-titled EP. Boosting confidence with affirming single Dreamshaker, the bluesy rock quartet quickly pricked up ears and found themselves supporting major headline acts like Calling All Cars, Karnivool and Grinspoon. While their live shows have a tendency for being a bit patchy, their debut long player lands on solid ground for the most part, albeit offering more or less an extension on what was promised when their smoky, Persian-carpeted bandroom sound hit the airwaves.

The full gamut of earthy mysticisms are covered lyrically, from spells, gypsies, serpents and lords, and it's hard not to imagine frontman Emilio Mercuri unleashing his unique forceful-to-falsetto wail with a crazy look in his eye. Indeed, if Mercuri had been gifted a life lived in the '70s, there's no doubt his peasant shirt and harem pants would have been left in tatters by screaming chicks. Thankfully, there's a bit more to hook onto here than just another gimmicky revivalist sound. But in the same token, if that's what the masses want to glean from this, then they too can look no further. Opener Raven combines assured natural guitar riffery and a solid rock beat that allows Mercuri to all but steal the show, and this likeable but slightly predictable soulful riff breakdown in sections winds its way through Evergreen and Running Games. Single House Of Luna is one of the stronger tracks, chugging distortion galore and a soaring chorus, but it's the quieter moments that awake more interest; World's Between and Mean Money allow them their epically embellished Doors moments.