Hopes and Fears

Currently flavour of the season in the UK, where they are being hailed as the new saviours of British pop music (ie this year’s Coldplay), Keane are the victims of that most despised of four-letter words, hype. Indeed, such is the level of superlative thrown in their direction that it would be almost impossible for their debut album to be anything other than a disappointment. It is testament to their talent that it is only a minor one.
For the 45 minutes it takes to travel from the familiar opening bars of ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ to the epic Chris Martin-isms of the closing ‘Bedshaped’, the majority of listeners are unlikely to be supremely moved by the mid-paced melancholic middle eights, falsetto choruses and bittersweet bridges. Indeed, by the time you get to the last quarter, it all sounds a bit dull and predictable.
While Keane undoubtedly do a decent line in ‘nice’, (nice melodies, nice arrangements, nice piano solos), they don’t really write songs to change your world. As a result, it’s hard to see them really striking a chord with the lighter-waving brigade who transformed Coldplay from sensitive pub-band to emotive stadium fillers in the blink of an eye.
When they do get it right though, the results are impressive. ‘Bend & Break’ is achingly gorgeous. The almost six-minute ‘She Has No Time’ manages to charm the listener into the heart of the song, while the brilliant ‘Somewhere Only We Know’ is one of the singles of the year so far.
Elsewhere, ‘We Might As Well Be Strangers’ is like vintage Depeche Mode – you can almost hear the spirit of Martin Gore tinkering about in the back of the studio – and ‘Can’t Stop Now’ reminds me of Gene in their prime. Less successful, however, are the hypnotic, sleep-inducing keyboard licks of ‘Untitled 1’, the yawnsome ‘Your Eyes Open’ and the plain boring ‘Sunshine’.
Keane are a young band who have plenty of potential, and Hopes & Fears is a decent if unspectacular debut album.