Finelines, My Vitriol

The comment at the top of the YouTube playlist of Finelines describes My Vitriol as “criminally underrated”. To understand why, we need to step back 23 years.

iTunes was just about to be launched. The top selling album worldwide was Linkin Park. Destiny’s Child had the biggest selling single. So a noisy indie rock band from Croydon, put together by two lads who met at University in London, well, the stars weren’t aligning. Oh, and in the indie world, having members of Sri Lankan origin probably set them apart from a scene ruled by skinny jeans-wearing white boys with little talent. Still, this was the formative period in British indie rock before Bloc Party, before Foals, before Croydon was cool. Okay, so maybe that last point is still happening (and it will, at least musically, I am certain).

At the time of their debut release, Finelines, few British bands sounded like them – Muse were perhaps closest, before they went proto-Prog and (more) pretentious. Yet, they were the forebearers of the indie scene that arrived a few years later. They had the raw energy of the metal-esque Linkin Parks of this world, but also the shimmering guitars reminiscent of the shoegaze and dream pop crowds, a sound now brilliantly revived through the likes of deary, Whitelands and the reformed slowdive.

And what an album. Criminally underrated indeed. The Foo Fighters style of the single, Always: Your Way has everything you want in a guitar track. It’s melodic without being pop, brash without being too heavy, and Som Wardner’s vocals keep it radio friendly. Yes, it has that American sound that was so prevalent in the late 90s and early naughts, but with a distinctly English twist.

It opens with noise. A growling guitar sound that grows into a snarl, and that sparkling shoegaze arpeggio to set the scene for what would follow. I would bet money the band listened to Radiohead as well as Nirvana, and probably Ride, too. They sure knew how to control the violence of their riffs so the melodic hooks didn’t get lost. Listen to Cemented Shoes, Losing Touch, and Grounded to get a good idea of just how well they walk the line between screaming emo and melodic indie, or how they mix that with shoegaze on Infantile or instrumental, Tongue Tied.

For almost 15 years, this album was the only output from My Vitriol, after they went on hiatus in 2002. Now they’re back and recording again, playing occasional shows and offering fans a subscription via their Bandcamp page, including the digital version of Finelines. Let’s hope they get around to reissuing it on vinyl, it’s very deserving of wider attention.

The album was remixed as a US release with some different vocal takes, but to my mind (and ears) the original is superior. It’s interesting to see that Drowned in Sound originally gave the album a 10/10 but scored the Epic release a 2/10. They knew. NME just hated it, but they tended to hate everything at the time, themselves included. I still believe it’s one of the most underrated records of its time. Tellingly, a copy of the original vinyl sells for more than £200 on Discogs.

Listen to the album via Spotify or, for those without a subscription (or if you don’t like the platform), listen on YouTube. Embeds below.

Horse Fabulous, The Stands

The cover of Horse Fabulous, which shows a reel-to-reel tape recorder in a graphic illustration style.

Consider 2005, if you can. There were many in the music press still believing the singing electricians (Oasis) to be the best thing ever, so it’s hardly a surprise that The Stands’ second album passed many people by. Lumbered with the Noel Gallagher curse of approval and a label that was failing financially – essentially dropping the band a fortnight before they released Horse Fabulous – they were up against it.

It also doesn’t help that Liverpool, the great city from which The Stands came, already had a group of lads who played guitar-based jangly indie pop when it didn’t have that name. However, it’s unfair to both blame The Beatles and compare the two bands. Distance changes perspective, because Horse Fabulous is, listening almost 20 years on, an absolute gem.

These are unequivocally pop songs, yet there are some sublime moments – from the trills on opening track Turn The World Around to the melancholic major to minor shift of the piano chords in Mountains Blue and the World Through My Window, to name just two. It has harmonies and melodies that deserve some attention, such as the backing vocals on Back To You. If you’re thinking it’s derivative, you’re probably remembering the language used in some of its harsher reviews.

The styles also vary across the album, from the straight out pop songs of the opening trio of tracks, to the Americana-influence of I Will Journey Home, which not only showcases a more laidback vibe but also highlights singer Howie Payne’s softer vocal, where the scouse whine is less obvious. As does the breakdown in the first part of Nearer Than Green, as the strings build and the whole track takes on a psychedelic hue before returning to the rock and pop riff that drives it along and then melting into what could be a guitar on its first trip.

While When The Night Falls In and Bluer Than Blue are more standard fare when it comes to 60s-inspired songwriting, the one song that is obviously influenced by their Liverpudlian forebearers, the belter that is Do It Like You Like, pulls the listener back into a night of revelry. If you heard it on some crime drama on Netflix it would not only set the mood but you’d be humming it for weeks afterwards. Rightly so.

This is music that reminds me of my earliest years, listening to my Mum’s record collection and delighting in what I heard. It feels like something comforting, yes, almost a set of songs you might already know. Yet, it’s full of blissful moments, get-up-and-dance riffs, and enough layers to reward repeat listens.