There has probably never been a better time for a band to produce straight-up indie pop, particularly if they happen to position themselves at the twee-er end of the scale. What with the mass acclaim for The Pains of Being Pure at Heart last year, the gently swelling commercial and critical success of Camera Obscura, and a general wave of C86-inspired bands seemingly sweeping the blogosphere, it would appear that in 2010 it’s hip to be fey. It is into this hospitable environment that Allo, Darlin’, a part-English, part-Aussie punctuationary nightmare launch their eponymous debut record.
It’s clear from even the most cursory of listens that it is a record which nakedly displays its influences, a factor which makes it no less enjoyable. Album opener Dreaming calls to mind the sweet youthfulness of mid-90s twee superheroes Heavenly, and specifically their Calvin Johnson collaboration with its lovely boy-girl interplay. The Polaroid Song, on the other hand, has the sort of gently insistent melody which calls to mind a more girly Smiths. There are plenty more reference points to be found in here if you look further, but the band deliver the whole thing in such a way that it never feels like theft, more like affectionate homage to their musical idols.
One of the band’s greatest strengths is the disarming directness of their lyrics. Take Silver Dollars, for instance, a simple but charmingly pretty love song to the toilet circuit: “And yeah, I sold all my records, but I’m still in debt by two grand / and yeah, we played that show, but we spent what we earned on the cab...we do it, because we love it”. The delivery of singer Elizabeth Darling aches with vulnerability, and carries the same sort of delicate emotional punch as Tracyanne Campbell, something which is at its most apparent on Let’s Go Swimming.
It is Kiss Your Lips which sees Allo, Darlin’ achieve their aims most perfectly. Aside from the mildly grating pronunciation of the word lips (although I must concede that as a Geordie many would say I have no cause to call anyone up on any kind of accent-related foibles), the song is the glorious high point of the album. It is the centre-piece around which the rest of the album is built, a breezy burst of pop exuberance, and gains extra kudos for the beautifully reverential mini Weezer cover in the middle.
The other side of Allo, Darlin’ is their slow-paced ukulele-led laments which resonate with obvious heartache, but they don’t all find their mark in the same way as Let’s Go Swimming. Heartbreak Chilli is very nearly a step too far into tweeness, a syrupy ode to culinary flirtatiousness, while What Will Be Will Be is a bit of an inconsequential way to end a record so replete with pop gems. While this is a bit of a shame, it by no means takes the shine of what is a hugely impressive debut album. As far as the current wave of mid-tempo indie pop goes, Allo, Darlin’ is likely to be a key album, one which I’m sure many will try and fail to emulate.
4/5
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