Murry The Hump : Songs of Ignorance
Delightful Welsh nonsense
As an opening lyrical salvo, [I]”My dealer drives a three-wheeler” [/I]is one of the greats. Not only for the nifty rhyme, but for the way it foreshadows the psychoactive barminess of what is to follow on Murry The Hump’s accomplished debut. More substances are name-checked over the course of the next 37 minutes than in a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. After ‘Vodka & Wine’ and ‘Booze & Cigarettes’, it’s no surprise to find that their ‘Green Green Grass’ of home is the kind you smoke – shedding new light on ‘Cracking Up’. Cardiff’s MTH aren’t averse to a party – but only if it brings them a little closer to uncovering some kind of deeper human truth.
Despite its title, ‘Songs of Ignorance’ reveals a canny aptitude not only for hook-laden guitar tricks but also story-telling. Matthew Evans’ exaggerated Welsh accent (which, weirdly, makes him occasionally sound exactly like Tom Verlaine) presides over tales of car alarms and carnal encounters with tongue-in-check earnestness, while MTH’s off-kilter melodicism puts them somewhere between the bucolic surrealism of Super Furry Animals and the cerebral pop of XTC. ‘Thrown Like A Stone’ and ‘Colouring Book’ have a country and western twang, ‘Don’t Slip Up’ rides a crest of wired feedback and frothy falsetto, and ‘Valley Girl’ plays like slo-mo Pixies. Fuzzy logic? Definitely. And all the better for it.