Hyde & Beast – Slow Down

I’ve always assumed that the simple answer is probably the wrong one. There is a human tendency, I think, to try to seek out nuance, or to search for hidden depths – even where, perhaps, none exist. If something seems blindingly obvious, it’s probably wrong.

Sometimes, though, the most obvious observation is actually the most accurate. And so it is with Hyde & Beast. Slow Down sounds like The Beatles. It’s undeniable. In fact, I don’t think the band are trying to deny it; it’s so blindingly, unbelievably clear, like a burning cross on an empty hillside, that it would be laughable to try to suggest otherwise.

So, point one: this record is a frequently slavish but occasionally interesting homage to The Beatles, 1965 to 1968.

Point two: Hyde & Beast seem to make no bones about this. Despite its slightly childish atavism, this is actually quite an adult record. It identifies and plays on some of the more esoteric and adventurous elements of the Merseyside lads’ cannon, drawing attention to some of the characteristics that took them from ‘just a pop band’ and elevated them into ‘actual, y’know, art’. Basically, the bits that sound like they were written in the ashram.

‘If You Could Buy Me Anything’, for example, takes the combination of slightly detuned guitar, sing-song melody and gospel backing that characterised moments of Sgt Pepper’s, wrenches them apart, and then puts them back together. The result is a slightly obtuse, rather loose construction of familiar elements; like an Ikea cabinet put together by someone with high-functioning autism.

The theme of deconstruction (or, rather, of something constructed charmingly wrong) continues on ‘You Will Be Lonely’ – perhaps the only track on which the Fab Four do not constitute the most obvious reference point. Instead, here the comparison is (somewhat oddly) Give Blood-era Brakes. It’s a sort of journeyman blues track, except played by a Tim Burton character. In other words: good fun.

The problem, though, is a simple one. Within almost every single one of these catchy, often interesting little tracks, there is a straight up rip-off of a Beatles melody. I spent a week thinking that this was a lovely collection of oddly memorable tunes, until I suddenly realised they were memorable precisely because I’d heard them before. This plagiarist tendency reaches a peak on ‘Last Chance For A Slow Dance’ – a carbon copy of ‘Don’t Let Me Down’ so brazen that I suspect it’s only a matter of time before Hyde & Beast get sued. A theft this obvious really makes one question how seriously the record, and indeed the band, should be taken.

There are moments of vague originality here but they are, sadly, all too fleeting. A tiny degree of honour is restored during the last 30 seconds of ‘Last Chance…’, but someone decided to fade the track out. ‘Wolfman Blues’, meanwhile, begins interestingly enough before descending inexorably into plodding pastiche.

To summarise, then: this might be an elaborate joke. I really can’t tell. It’s an entertaining record, full of nice little earwormy melodies. The problem is that someone else wrote them. As a companion to Rubber Soul or Sgt. Pepper’s, this is a decent listen. As an album in its own right, it’s liable to result in a lawsuit.