Silver

THE WRENS: “Silver” (Grass Records)

THE MAMMOTH 23 songs on Silver take just 69 minutes, but they’re a far cry from classic three-minute pop songs. The album ranges from the sublime to the dreadful over its playing time, taking in quite a lot in between.

From the Pixies-esque rumblings of ‘Napiers’ and ‘Down To The Service’ to the Nirvana-like punk/thrash hybrid of ‘Darlin’ Darlin’, the Wrens can deliver good songs. The opening ‘Propane’ is a joy to listen to, constructed around delicate and melodic acoustic guitar. On the other hand ‘Adanoi’ is about as delicate as a Doc Marten into the testicles, all power chords and pounding drums.

Too often on Silver the vocals are hidden in the mix, making the lyrics all but unintelligible. ‘Minion’ and ‘Dust’ are typical examples, where snatches of sentences are barely audible above the screeching guitars and pulsating basslines. When the lyrics can be heard, alongside the snippets on the sleeve, they range from the strange, “Tie them in the basement/Feed them apples and their Tarot” (‘Kevin’s Hell’) to the downright scary, “And again my limbs are screaming/Crawling with the things I’m seeing/Fix my bones they’re coming after me” (‘Crawling’). If the vocals were allowed more room in which to operate they could add considerably to the songs.

It’s on tracks like ‘Crawling’ that The Wrens take off, tortured guitar and throbbing bass sparking against vaguely understandable lyrics. They can also slow things down with considerable aplomb, the fragile beauty of ‘William’ being the standout cut on the album. ‘Grey Complexion’ is also top notch, beginning with before the track proper kicks in.

Unfortunately, the band come to ground all too often. The terrible ‘Strengthless/Decided Girl’ is overlong and underinspired. ‘Fuzz’ is just feedback, which I thought went out with the Indians, or at least with Neil Young’s songs about them. ‘Me, The Misser, The Late’ is pure unadulterated nonsense, re-exploring old territory with no apparent purpose.

Ultimately, Silver suffers from its length, which gave the band license to include songs that would make bad B-sides. I can’t help feeling that with some unceremonious editing Silver could make a classic 12-track album and The Wrens might soar up the charts.

Perhaps a little bird should tell them.

• John Walshe