I wasn’t familiar with the band before listening to this album, so I quickly gained the impression that this was some kind of “Best of” collection from a bunch of ‘70s rockers that had passed me by first time round. I was pretty surprised, therefore, to find that they are in fact a genuine “noughties” band, and that this is their debut full-length release.

Musically, the feel is predominantly one of unreconstructed blues rock which I had mentally placed at circa 1973. The vocal veers between sounding like Lou Reed – notably on “Step On Inside” – and Bob Dylan (on “Priest, Poet and the Pig”, “Apocalypse” and “Too Tired”). Lyrically too, particularly on “Priest, Poet and the Pig” the surreal imagery and unlikely juxtapositions also recall Dylan, whilst musically partly evoking later Floyd. Much guitar riffery features, punctuated with judicious use of strings for the slower tracks like “Toby” and “Too Tired”, and brass – particularly effective is the ghostly, disembodied trumpet/cornet sound on “Apocalypse”.

Most songs here seem based around themes of drug use, rock ‘n’ roll burn-out, and groupies. The sombre portentous opening track “Step On Inside” sets the scene for the dark, skewed and often hallucinatory world evoked. In “Mr Goldfinger”, perhaps about a dealer or unscrupulous manager, they state “If you stick it under my nose / I’ll sniff it up, and glow in the ecstacy”, while in “Welcome to My Room” they describe a sleazy post-show party, and the paranoia that comes from overindulgence (“Seems like there’s always someone outside / Spying on us all the time”). “Summer in the City” has a more optimistic mood but this is mainly because they are “feeling so much better” courtesy of some stolen pills, while a friend of theirs dreams his “smacked-up dreams”.

The centrepiece of this album, and – by far – the best track, is “Toby”: a long, elegiac and incredibly sad/moving song about the death of a friend-cum-drug-buddy. It pulls no punches lyrically – from the moment when the singer hears of Toby’s death, and admits “I almost smirked a grin, man / Cos I knew he was finally satisfied”, claiming – tragically – “I really don’t remember a time he was alive”, and opting out of his funeral, since “I think we buried you a long time ago”. This long (just short of 7 ½ minute) track then goes on to describe memories of the times shared with Toby, pretty much all revolving around obtaining and consuming drugs (“counting days by counting burns on your sheets”). It succeeds in retaining a totally authentic-sounding, grimy and downbeat description of the junkie lifestyle while still conveying a genuine sense of sadness and regret at the loss of the friend.

The language used throughout the album is very ‘60s/’70s, with lots of phrases such as “if ya dig”, “honey, it’s such a lovely scene”, “these chicks”, and many many uses of “man”. The attitude displayed towards women – who mainly seem to feature in groupie-type roles (“She was a pretty good lay” being about the highest praise accorded to anyone of the opposite sex, on “Summer in the City”) – is also pretty, erm, retro.

It only remains to alert potential listeners to the inclusion of a hidden track (TLOBF’s bugbear) following on from “Too Tired”. It’s another slow elegiac number and is notable mainly for the reference to Hemmingway, and the bon mot “If you run with bulls / Sometimes you get the horn”.

Overall, then, VietNam are gritty, druggy, confusing, slightly disturbing and impressively authentic-sounding. Just don’t expect them to pick up any accolades as The Sound of 2007…
65%

Links
VietNam [official site] [myspace]