Hard-Fi
Once Upon A Time In The West

It’s that classic, age-old problem: your fame and fortune is derived from the situation and circumstances you come out of; suddenly, in the case of Richard Archer – chief architect and frontman of* Hard-Fi *– there’s no worries about phone credit, the last tenner in the bank or any other troubles that affect the average man toeing the weekly financial line.

So, what to do?

With Hard-Fi, it’s seemingly a case of ‘plough on regardless’. Their audience, the ones who ate up tales of living for the weekend and tribal drinking, are still there, so why ignore them? The only apparent change is that Archer clearly feels a more sombre record is in order, perhaps penance for dragging himself upwards and outwards. Inevitably, though, a myriad of problems follow.

The only musical aspect of_ Stars of CCTV_ that was remotely interesting – if hackneyed – was that blatant appropriation of the likes of Daft Punk (the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing effect; you know the one). So, while the less-than-poetic portrayals of ‘outsider life’ (even though most of us live in your glorious suburbs, Richard) remain, the previously palatable musical vehicle for its delivery has been towed away.

So you have the crunching, Clash-lite likes of ‘Television’, a satire on reality TV and general front-room sloth which sounds like the pith that Robbie Williams was spewing out (with a lot more amusement) five years ago. Worst of all, the lyrics “Television, new religion, hallelujah” are a biting statement about 30 years out of date. Then there’s the mercifully short ‘I Close My Eyes’, which is a bludgeoning rock ear-sore that really could have done with never being heard by anyone. Even the lead single, the outer-London battlefront-marking ‘Suburban Knights’, fails to ignite as before, relying on gang chants and a proliferation of “ooo”s and “aaaah”s to mask its undercooked nature.