Shut Up Your Face

When a CD sleeve is shiny, it means: pay attention. When you look inside and see separate cards instead of a stapled sleeve, it means: we do things differently. When you take a closer look and they’re actually amusing ways to decorate square shapes, it means: you love us already, don’t you? And when you get to the last card and it’s a reflective piece, which you can set against the back of the CD to be able to read the tracklisting, which is in mirror-image form, it says: we could very well be the most inventive thing you’ve ever heard.
But stick on the CD and the honeymoon period ends. Though not there and then. You try to make a go of it, to approach it on its own instrumental post-rock terms, to take its strengths and focus on them for all you’re worth. You stick with it for a while anyway, hoping that it will yield hidden riches. But ultimately, Shut Up Your Face is a selfish album, even by the Kerry natives’ own admission.
Instrumental rock is a notoriously difficult genre to enter, given that a band is relying solely on their playing ability and compositional skills to win their way into people’s affections. At its most imaginative and masterful, as with 65daysofstatic and Mogwai, it can be glorious, feeding into the listener’s psyche in a way that is close to alchemy. With their debut, Ten Past Seven don’t manage that difficult task – or at least for me they don’t. Pieces like ‘Back In Business’ and ‘No Bother’ contain some novel ideas. But as a listener, you really don’t want the job of unpicking 42 introverted minutes to find occasional gems.
There is enough that’s interesting about Shut Up Your Face to suggest that there may be much better to come from Ten Past Seven. They are brave and independent in their approach – but for the moment the necessary harmony of skills and vision hasn’t been achieved to realise what is a grand ambition.