Album Review: Palma Violets - 180

You have to feel sorry for relative newcomers Palma Violets, the current darlings of NME, who, at one point, labelled them as “the best new band in Britain”. As such, the level of expectation regarding their debut record has been taken to the same lofty heights reserved for previous flavours of the month. It goes without saying that such heights are often not met, so it's easy to understand why some might approach 180 with trepidation, even with the knowledge that it's not the band or their publicity machine making such a grandiose claim.

In all honesty, exactly what all the hoopla's about is not initially clear. Sure, there's a roughness to Best Of Friends that makes you think there may be something more to the questionably named quartet than hype, but it's not immediately apparent. In fact, on first listen, it isn't until you've made it almost halfway through the album before you realise this is actually growing on you. The rough edge manages to run throughout the whole record and definitely works in the band's favour, giving them a garagey feel. The at-times-sloppy delivery of the lyrics can seem contrived, bringing them close to pretentiousness, yet Sam Fryer (guitars/vocals) and Chilli Jesson (bass/vocals) manage to pull back just in time. There's an undercurrent of punk on 180 too, with Rattlesnake Highway reminiscent of Blitzkrieg Bop by Ramones. Meanwhile, Three Stars has a guitar solo that could have come from a Peter Hook bassline. Chicken Dippers is a definite highlight.

Some may be drawn to 180 due to the fact that it was produced by Steve Mackey (Pulp's bass player), but there actually is more on offer than just a famous producer and hyperbole.