Never trust your first instinct. Your first instinct’ll probably tell you that you don’t like Felix Hagan and the Family. Music in 2013 should be labouring under the spectre of either The Jam or the Drive soundtrack, not.. Rogers and Hammerstein, really? Amanda Palmer acted the fool so loudly and publicly last year that it’s now impossible to think of theatrical rock music without making immediate associations with terrible poems and caring too much about Kickstarter, so there definitely shouldn’t be saloon-style pianos and horns on every track on this EP, except for the one with the VisitHighlands-commercial-esque pipes. It’s everything that’s uncool right now. So why does it jam so, so hard?
A little history first; possible-19thCentury-pirate Felix Hagan self-produced his début record, “Dawn Breaks, The Monster Wakes,” and it was great, but it needed a stage. So he pulled together The Family, Ocean’s 11 style, and ended up with one of London’s most essential live acts. Now, for their first release on an indie (Debt Records), the challenge FH&TF faced was to successfully replicate their sweat-drenched, dance-yourself-sick gigs on record – something that countless bands have failed to do. Well, countless other bands.
They get to the point immediately with a piano flourish and a pre-orgasmic gasp before breathlessly powering into “My Lords and Ladies,” the album’s most immediate and satisfying rocker. It brims over with punk energy and salacious rallying cries (“my lords and ladies please / get down upon your knees / because the hour is nigh”), falling over itself to get you on your feet and the walls all “wet / with perfume and sweat.” It’s a blast, but then there’s “Go Back Home,” a beautifully constructed baroque pop number that piles hook onto hook until every pleasure point is being feverishly hammered at once. And then it all comes to a head with a key change, because how could it not?
Somehow, “Go Back Home” isn’t even the peak. Joint runner up is “My Tyrant,” that aforementioned pipe-drenched closer, a colossal show-stopping paean to a love so intense that you’ll endure anything to keep it, up to and including horrifying dismemberment. It’s ludicrous, obviously, but so generous and charming and transcendent that you’ll have to wedge your arm under the desk to hold back the involuntary air punches. Sounds like a joke, but we’re not kidding.
And then there’s “My Little Lusitania,” a wickedly sleazy centrepiece duet with Louis Barabbas of the Bedlam Six. We’re caught in the middle of the two vocals as they circle each other, dripping with menace and effortless swagger, sizing each other up before joining forces for a propulsive beer-soaked wail-along as another titanic climax claims casualties from all sides. On an EP filled with tight songcraft and barely controlled chaos, it stands out as the most accomplished example of both.
Even the weaker material is strong enough to keep itself buoyant. ‘Poser Boy’ should be an absolute disaster – rapping! White rapping! REALLY white rapping! – but Hagan’s admirable flow and wordplay make up for his dodgy breath control, and the slightly limp opening half (only slightly, mind) is quickly deneuralized by a hail of irresistible beats and breathless enthusiasm. And ‘Sing Your Last Lullaby’s arrangement, throwing space-rock guitars and borderline proggy builds into the mix, is bombastic enough to recall peak Journey, more than compensating for the underwhelming chorus.
It’s hard to predict how “String Up the Entertainer” will sit with listeners. The camp theatricality and goofiness of the thing will no doubt be a stumbling block for some, as will its sincere and unwavering desire to be loved. But it deserves to demand your love. There’s not an ounce of fat on the thing. For every one of these twenty one minutes, Felix Hagan and The Family push themselves to the edge of exhaustion to thrill you in every way they can. These songs don’t end, they collapse, sweating, panting in a messy knot of limbs and heaving lungs. And you’ll join them in the pile, gladly.
[Rating:4]
