You see a bunch from Nashville and reckon you’ve probably got a reasonable handle on what they are and what they do. Except Cinema Stereo spend their debut album confounding those expectations, then finding a few more to confound along the way.
They look the part, mind you. A proper rock ’n’ roll band. A gang you wouldn’t want to cross. But when Ian Rayha, Seb Borysek and Jeff Lageveen start playing, things aren’t quite so easy to pin down.
“Flood” makes that clear immediately. Not quite rock, not quite blues, but with a huge chorus. Interesting, too, and it’s hardly the last time they’ll keep you guessing.
In many ways, “12:34” is a guitar album, and “Over the Edge” underlines the point. There’s just a touch of indie in the riffing, while Borysek’s playing is central to the appeal. “It will take some time to clear out all the bullshit,” sings Rayha, but they seem to have done a pretty decent job of it here.
There’s a touch of Razorlight about “Now We Feel Special”, and something quite compelling about it, before “A Moment of Feeling Alone” offers something gentler and full of regret. The way it builds is particularly impressive. “I need to let you go,” sings Rayha, but you know he never will. Because we never can when we want to, can we?
The title track is a brief musical interlude, but there’s a case for it being the emotional centre of the record. It certainly contrasts beautifully with “Expectations”, which is a real stomper. Until it isn’t. There’s a lot going on here, as there is across the whole album.
With its piano and harmonies, “Ride to the Sun” has a distinctly 60s sound. There’s possibly something of The Kinks about it, and this might just be the highlight of the record. “Flowers” is more stripped down, but whatever Cinema Stereo do, they do it so well, while “Lean On You” brings more of that 60s-flavoured fun. It’s irresistible.
Then, all of a sudden, a reggae-tinged thing breaks out in the shape of “All I Want”, and you can’t help but think of The Police. Another change of direction, another one they carry off.
“Tears” is an evocative instrumental, and it leads into “Proxima”, the darkest thing here. Organs herald it in, but the guitar is quite sensational. For an album that has already covered plenty of ground, it makes for a striking final statement.
Cinema Stereo are ambitious, as their name might suggest, and seem set on rendering predictions pointless. This is going to be a career to watch. There’s nothing wet behind the ears about any of this: they arrive sounding fully formed, a band fully aware of who they are and what their ideas are.
“12:34” is a very bold way of introducing yourself.
Rating: 8/10
