Charly Coombes & The New Breed – Waves EP

If Charly Coombes is Pac-Man, then ‘60s and ‘70s classic rock acts are pieces of fruit the size of his head, which he devours, with relish, and, in a twist exclusive to an obscure Japan-only release of Ms Pac-Man in 1983, poos them out again in the form of competent, yet slightly pallid and uninspired versions of themselves.

If Charly Coombes is John Culshaw, then garage rock and bar-room blues are a series of arbitary politicians and celebrities impersonated in a hackneyed and worryingly inaccurate way for a man who is probably paid more money a year to do that as a job than most of us will be in a lifetime.

If Charly Coombes is one of those leeches that supposedly takes on the chemical memory of other leeches it is fed in a laboratory, then Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones and Pearl Jam are those self-same cannibalised annelids, fed to their peers in experiments to determine whether the ability to, say, navigate a maze, or write a decent pop song, are traits passed on via ingestion. The jury is still out in either case.

If Charly Coombes is John Charles Coombes, then he is the younger brother of half of ‘90s brit-pop sensations Supergrass, former keyboardist for poor-man’s White Stripes the 22-20s, and front-man of “hottest new act in British indie” (source: the NME, date: whenever they probably said that) Charly Coombes & The New Breed.

Coombes’ dedication to his heroes both helps and hinders Waves, his band’s second EP this year, in equal measure. On the one hand, he seems incapable of fleeing the shadow of groups past – not just his influences, but his previous band, also noted devotees to their musical heritage – and each of the four songs here, while composed with some degree of panache, sound as though they’ve been Frankensteined together from countless songs you know you recognise but not quite where from. On the other hand, it’s difficult to imagine how this EP might have come together without a level of indebtedness to past masters, such is the scarcity of moments of originality or true inspiration to be found amongst the endless barrage of tribute, rip-off or homage. Any number of bands owe as much to their influences as they do to their own creativity, but in the most successful amongst these – notable breakthrough acts this year include, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, Best Coast, the whole of the “chillwave” scene – introduce a new spark, tread new ground, and build around their obvious touchstones. Sadly for this EP, there is too much nostalgic clamouring after past glories, and not nearly enough aiming toward the future.