So near, yet so far. On first impressions, taking a trip with the miscreants of [a]Southern Fly[/a] is a sleazy, eclectic, boozy journey to the outer limits. Songs like the voodoo terrace chant of ‘Monkey Tale’ sound awesome tonight – all spit and swagger on six cans of Special Brew. They look like a gang, they SOUND like they mean it, so are we going to love ’em forever?
Sadly, on closer inspection, ver Fly‘s set is little more than a spirited pastiche of the past five years of indie rock. Sorry lads, but despite Shaun Ryder doppleganger Simon Scott‘s tortured yearnings, ‘Buried Alive’ isn’t a slow-burning, psychedelic orgasm, it’s a carbon copy of The Verve‘s ‘Stormy Clouds’– and Ashcroft he ain’t.
‘Maybe It’s The Right Time’ is The Heavy Metal Charlatans and the laughably named ‘Do Ya?’ (did they get Smaller to write the titles?) is ‘Driving South’ by the Roses, but not as good. And, sad to say, these are their best tunes.
Come on lads, we want more than this – how about some inspiration?
Despite their good intentions, their willingness to rock, [a]Southern Fly[/a] are just a byproduct of these soulless days, a soundtrack to mediocrity and inward-thinking. File alongside Spacehog, Feeder and Bush and wait for them to be massive with university casuals. Still, a support slot with Stereophonics is probably on the cards.