Nelson - Revolving Doors Album Review (2008)

I often enjoy writing negative reviews. When you buy your own music, you never really get the chance or have the inclination. You normally do so out of disappointment more than malice. As long as there is a lot to write about, and the music is interesting bad and not just boring, it is a useful experience. I really was trying hard with this new French band - Nelson. I refused to mention that their name is a bad Anglo-Franco ironic joke and as I say in the review, there is too much talk of the band's Frenchness. I focused on the music which is a baffling combination of a brave retro sound and complete and utter nonsense. A pat on the back for being honest I hope.

The review (for The Music Magazine):

The world is running out of musical genres. Bands are no longer classified and pigeon-holed as rock or indie or dance like they used to. If you don't use several (often hyphenated) words and phrases to describe your music, you must be doing something wrong. So French new-vague post-punk art-garage (ok that's enough - point made) foursome Nelson are trying to prove there is more to their country's music than Serge Gainsbourg, Vanessa Paradis and now Carla Bruni. The band are a compelling mix of The Strokes and Bauhaus with just a touch of Joy Division. Being retro is nothing new, so expectations are already low, but Nelson could just be different enough to turn a few heads.

Unfortunately, 'Revolving Doors' is one of those albums in which each song shows considerable promise for the first ten or twenty seconds before either falling apart or doing nothing, like each member of the band begins to drift away from each other and do their own thing. It makes for a truly frustrating listen as nothing happens when you want it to; the songs grind when they should flow and move left when you anticipate right. This is not for someone who enjoys logical chord progression. But the musicians involved have clearly worked on the songs: the subtle arrangements and specifically the vocals, shared principally by guitarist JB Devay and bassist Gregory Kovalski. David Nichols provides the keyboards and drummer Thomas Pirot excels more often than he doesn't. So there is young talent at work. And with youth comes a misguided naivety.

The album starts with mediocrity and slides downhill into an agonising demise. 'Slow Falling' is appropriate for an opening song - dark electronica bringing in the vocals and then dig drums, all set to tapping cymbals. The first signs of a distinctive multi-vocal sound appear before some squeaky keyboards and samples. 'The (Over) Song' is all vocals after the promising bass but quickly gets heavy and messy. 'Silence In Your Mind' sounds like an early Cure demo and seems to be infatuated with prostitutes. The drum track is impressive but again, when it tries to lift at the end, the guitars get messy. Things pick up with 'The Darkest Parts Of Your True Confessions', a tribute to Joy Division but more of a pale imitation, but a neat slack guitar riff morphs into another noisy mess.

That, believe it or not, is the best of the good first half. From here, 'Inside' is a peculiar juxtaposition of spoken word, eerie distant vocals and then a softer pop sound. It is all very uncomfortable and clumsy. It tries to be Editors or Interpol but fails to be either. The persistent military drum beat plagues 'People And Thieves', as does the constant repetition of simple lyrics. It is laboured and slow. 'Seasons', at least, tries to be a bit different. There is a cool and sinister fairground melody in both the vocals and guitars but the drums are horrible. It is ironic that Pirot should be the weak link here when everyone else is doing much better. A shame they could not all get it right at once. 'I [SYC] Stop' also attempts a much needed lift but Pirot sounds like a drum machine and it all gets shouty. The band try a classic verse-chorus-verse but never get anywhere.

The real let down is the last two songs. 'Paid It All' has all the makings of a great highlight but ends up as a really bad album in one song. A spooky ambient intro develops into a Geiger counter. The lead vocal splits in two and in spite of some repetition, it is genuinely good. But a horrible tuneless guitar break is a mess and half way through the six minutes you really want it all to go away. If this wasn't bad enough, the band flirt with controversy with a mock-nursery rhyme about the Virgin Mary. It is both offensive and misjudged. Moving on, the song disintegrates into an electronics filled fade. The big finale is 'Freakshows', starting with soft guitars and vocals accompanied by a heartbeat. Two minutes in and the vocal gymnastics - the only weapon in a now noticeably weak arsenal - try to salvage what is left of a failing song but it simply fades away. The last minute and a half is just the heartbeat and very long fade. Lazy, uninspired and pointless.

Far too much has been made (and will probably continue to be made) of Nelson's nationality. This should have nothing to do with the music and as so many influences are in the mix, the overall result is something that transcends any one style or culture. The decision not to sing in French is obvious as this would create an entirely different feel but you can't help thinking what 'Revolving Doors' might have been if they do. The combination of Devay and Kovalski is at best intriguingly complex and at worse annoyingly random. Musically, Nelson have taken the best elements from new post-punk garage bands and fused in early 80s new-wave goth electronica. But an interesting new sound is not good enough. The production is woeful, especially when the guitars fill in and the vocal mix could use more clarity. Above all Nelson desperately need good songs. Consistency is not an issue. It is all consistently weak.

-- CS (for The Music Magazine)