Reviews

Sunday Driver
Album: The Mutiny
Label: Bakul Bagan
Tracks: 13
Website: http://www.sundaydriver.co.uk

Dark and at times disturbing Victoriana with an Indian flavour is not a description that I think I'll be using in conjunction with many albums, but it's one that is perfectly suited to the new album from Sunday Driver, "The Mutiny".

I think the only other time I used anything close to that phrase was in connection with the band's previous album, "In The City Of The Dreadful Night". So does that mean that this is more of the same? Well, to some extent yes, in that that album lays the foundations for this, but predominantly this album does more than enough to earn itself plenty of marks of distinction.

There is an almost seductive sound to Sunday Driver, although beguiling might be a better word, enhanced by Chandy Nath's incredible voice. You get the feeling that the band could charm a cobra from its basket, but you wouldn't necessarily rely on them to put it back, there's an edge that makes you feel they would quite happily let the venomous serpent slither amok in the crowd.

It's impossible to review a Sunday Driver album without drawing attention to the instrumentation and arrangements. The use of woodwind does give the album a palm court orchestra sound, which in this day and age gives the band that increasing rarity a genuinely and immediately recognisable sound.

"The Mutiny" is an album that can work on so many levels because there are so many aspects to it. You can allow yourself to be seduced by the sounds and melody, alternatively you can feel your way in via the intelligent lyrics or you can go the whole hog and embrace the whole. However you chose to do it you will find a different listening experience.

It's a difficult sound to describe in its entirety. I guess it could be called world fusion, perhaps old world fusion, is a more accurate interpretation. Regardless, this is an album that has so much going for it. One you can return to time and time again. "The Mutiny" is as beautiful and dangerous as a Bengal tiger caught by the tail.

Neil King