The sixteen and a half MILLION quid that Man Utd are reportedly prepared to fork out for an uninspiring water carrier like Michael Carrick is surely proof (if proof were needed) that when it comes to calculating the value of English footballers, perspective is sorely lacking in dear old Albion. And as with soccer, so with music.
If you can draw a fair comparison between Steven Gerrard and Arctic Monkeys (intuitive forces of nature who seemed to emerge fully-formed and world-class) and maybe even Wayne Rooney and Pete Doherty (unpleasant and indulged tabloid fodder, who are nowhere near as good as their cheerleaders would have us believe), then surely the typical narrative arc followed by most mid-ranking indie bands would be familiar to Engerland regulars. Namely: feverish initial hype, outbursts of vertiginous ambition, the odd flash move in low-level company and then the inevitable combustion once push comes to shove (Kaiser Chiefs and Frank Lampard spring to mind).
When their first LP was released to little popular impact following a typically Churchillian propaganda push, The Young Knives came dangerously close to joining the likes of Hope Of The States in the one-cap-wonder file.
Flash, modishly (and therefore suspiciously) wasted, and purveying a predictably Doherty-esque brew of open-mouthed, chin-forward pop thrash – so uninspiring was their introduction, there was every chance they wouldn’t reappear for the second half.
As it is, here they are again – hoping to redeem themselves and have the punters chanting their names by the end. Their chances are helped by the whimsical interludes that waft every-now-and-then through Voices of Animals and Men. The opener ‘Part Timer’ takes a Davies-like look at the life of an office temp. The twitchy ‘Loughborough Suicide’ (“I want to do it on the tennis courts”) has a demented, unsettling feel that is genuinely affecting.
Ultimately, however, the absolute refusal of The Young Knives to push themselves beyond a rigid musical four-four-two (unlike their near-contemporaries British Sea Power who you’ll often find with three up-front), would suggest that they’re destined never to prove themselves on the world stage.