Frankie & The Heartstrings – Hunger

The way in which certain bands have enveloped British culture as a whole of late has been intriguing. It should be to a national credit that we haven’t let our collective artistic credibility fall so far by the way side that Beady Eye would become anything more than the shameless vanity wankfest that it is, but its protagonist has had an indelible mark on the propserous nature of guitar led popular music in recent times. Many have tried to replicate that sort of Oasis formula – that envy-inducing ability to be universally respected for writing brilliantly simplistic anthems. But that desperation to cling onto such a potnent mix has created a backlash following a swathe of overtly bravado laden dross. There’s something that little bit different about Frankie & The Heartstrings, though, despite a lot of this checklist being ticked through. Theirs is a sound unashamed of their heritage yet bouncing with a frivolity untarnished by a grossly misjudged sense of importance.

Opener ‘Photograph’ wields that sort of aforementioned laddish charm in its purest form, nonchalantly sweeping in with its garage band rhythms and pot-and-pan-bashing guitars, with Frankie passionately declaring his own geeky love of Scott Walker’s voice only enhancing that immediate endearment. The laddish charm they exude radiates only further with single and title track ‘Hunger’. It could so easily be lost in an overly laddish thrust of “Oh-oh-oh”‘s befitting of some dreaded festival troupes, but it’s to the band’s credit that the infectious strength and embedded humility of the track belies any of that.

Moments such as ‘Hunger’ are what so many peers of theirs thrive far too readily on, churning out enough cliches of themselves to half their shelf life at least. It’s all down to their own laziness. So when a curveball like the touchingly beautiful ‘Fragile’ appears, it becomes clear that the furore behind Frankie & The Heartstrings is centred around something far more than another Great White Hope. It’s ode-to-’My-Girl’ bassline and lackadaisical chorus is rooted in romanticism more than chauvinism, proving that their humble and affable demeanour already surpasses some of those left in the lad-rock stampede by choosing honesty over all else.

This is an album also very much engrained with classic influences. Each of the songs plays on a classic rock’n’roll swagger, twinning it with that relentless boyish charm that will (and has) seen the band fall fondly into the hearts of many. It creates a musical depiction of a young lad in a Richard Curtis film gestating in his bedroom along to Buddy Holly songs, away from prying eyes but just as willing to be seen by the world. Take ‘That Postcard’s bounce of slick, slide guitar riffs and subtle, walking bassline with Frankie’s ever-charming vocal proving as a prime case in point – it oozes a classic British cool without being overbearingly self conscious. Penultimate track ‘Want You Back’ takes a similar tack, allowing Frankie to use his pleading drawl to take the forefront unfalteringly before being backed perfectly by a chorus of triumphant horns, as if to signify that this dreamy solace he signifies in register has been lifted by this musical exorcism.

It’s momentary treasures like this that help Frankie & The Heartstrings breed those sort of cobbled-street memories even in those who don’t have them. The formula here is nothing new, though. These are songs that have those definite recognisable traits, and whilst that does have it strengths, it also leaves a vulnerability in the band that can grate. They may never have sought to be perfect – in fact their imperfection is what will allow them to be so cherished – but there are definitely tracks on here that stand out above the others, as you may expect with such hazardous and naive musical endeavour. ‘Ungrateful’ does play a bit too New Order safe with its singular concurrent melody, whilst ‘Possibilities’ seems to have stayed too long in the smoky Bingo Hall haze of the band’s pushed aesthetic, standing as too contrived of a surf homage even amongst this gleefully honest ode to the past.

This debut demonstrates that there is no middle ground for Frankie & The Heartstrings. There is a formula to their art that resides in simplistic, albeit mostly high quality, songwriting. But their art will not be for everyone just yet. These ten songs are a very solid demonstration of a band thriving in the joy of doing what they love, but whether what they love is what everyone else will is something that only time will tell.