six.

Gaz Coombes

Here Come The Bombs
The Supergrass frontman’s debut solo effort is, for me, better than anything he ever did while on the day job.  I’ve always quite liked Supergrass, even loved certain tracks here and there, but this is a consistent work of quality throughout.  There are songs that certainly come from the same template as much of Supergrass’ output (‘Simulator’ beats his old band at their own game), but there’s lots more on offer here. The liquid voiced cyber-punk of ‘Hot Fruit’, the stilting bass fuzz of ‘Whore’, the 80s power-pop of ‘Break the Silence’, the anthemic space oddity of the inappropriately named ‘White Noise’ and the eastern plod of ‘Ultimate Cinema’: all of them are different and all are superb.  This is a record full of unexpected gems.  If there’s a criticism to be made, it’s probably that there’s a lack of cohesion to the album as a whole.  You can listen to it on random without noticing; the variety on offer means that things are a little scattergun.  But track by track this is definitely one of my favourite records of the year, and I’ve been playing it regularly since the spring.  The quality of this album is made all the more impressive by the fact that Coombes played every single instrument on show.  Super and supergrassless.