Corporation:Blend

Redjetson have started to turn heads in recent months; rarely have several young men of such a quiet demeanor made such disquieting sounds. Schooled in the Six By Seven academy of thought, their speciality is in compelling, icy, pitiless, and frankly bloody miserable songs that begin as an unsettling whisper and grow to unfeasible proportions, until they tower over you like the proverbial and oft-cited Rock Monster and unleash the sonic equivalent of a blizzard of nuclear fallout. Their sound is basically a Mogwai/Joy Division/very fucked up Idlewild mashup - singer Clive's disinterested, slightly Arab Strap-esque vocals contrasting fantastically with a lorryload of layered, seismic guitars that interlock and weave their way through your headspace. 'Pieces Go Missing' seethes with blinkered, unwavering menace, ending with a volley of subterranean rumblings and a monotone line intoned over and over again. This is music for those who are sickened by the world around them, and torn between an apathy born of despair and a desire to make something that somehow rises above the whole sorry, contrived mess that passes for beauty and flair right now.

Corporation:Blend are born of the same mentality - the flyers they've scattered around the dingy enclaves of the Metro Club read: "Got sick of waiting around for the band that would change everything. Decided to form it ourselves". Good attitude, but they're not in the same league. They're wealthily endowed with self-assurance, singer Rob Owen declaring "snow AND a good band - it's your lucky day", but ultimately they sound somewhere between a stroppier Supernaturals and sub-Muse prog punk. Every song is an unnecessary and slightly silly guitar-shaped victory lap, capped by inexcusable and caricatured Molko caterwauling. When they're not parodying other bands, they sound promising, and their hungry approach is spot on, but for all their bluster, they're not yet brave enough to grasp their own sound by the throat, and their substitute imitations of the rock illuminaries whose heights they aspire to are so clumsy that they betray them utterly. With time and a little courage, they could do far better.