As alter-egos go, Mother, the cartoonish creation of musician Sam Smith, is a towering and schizophrenic one. Caught between the liquid tonsils of Bryan Ferry and the shrill, ragged pantomime of Nicky Tesco
of punk band the Members, Mother is both suave seducer and suburban anarchist atop a shaky soap box. And the music is even stranger, with new wave just the straight-between-the-eyes starting point. On top of synths are tossed soul and blues, the psychobilly camaraderie of 'Oh Yeah You Look Nice',
the dangerous intent and staggering guitars of 'Fuck Me Mummy I Feel Ugly'. 'Who Art You Girls?' flutters it's mascara-heavy lashes at the New York Dolls, while much of the eccentric, multi-layered songs make mischief in the long shadow of the Super Furry Animals.
Perhaps it would be enough to have put these contradictory influences in a blender and served it up as a confident debut. But the moments where the band became themselves - the unexpected,
surreal, humour and twinkle-toed waltzes through burgeoning melancholy - make this a great album. [4/5]
BETTY CLARKE
www.hecklerspray.com
The debut album by Mother And The Addicts, entitled Take The Lovers Home Tonight, is released on Monday 22nd August. And in the 40 minutes it will take you to listen to the CD, they may just become your new favourite British band...
Mother And The Addicts ply, superficially at least, the same trade as fellow Scot art-rocksters Franz Ferdinand. But where Franz have already knackered themselves by sticking rigidly to their grown up arched eyebrow white funk, Mother And The Addicts spend their time here being almost compulsively eclectic. 'There's Father In Heaven', an instrumental which could pass as one of The Libertines' old sad waltzes, but one that benefits from not having a rubbish lanky junkie slurring borrowed poetry all over the top of it. There's 'Even Time Will Destroy Me', which we'd call ambient if we thought it'd do it justice. Or there's 'Fuck
Me Mummy I Feel Ugly' - available from the band's website as a free download - a deranged, thousand-mile-an-hour blast of spiky pop heaven.
They can be irresistibly funky (the title track), they can be heartbreakingly sad (the micro-lengthed 'Ron Dawn From Var') or they can be exactly what we wish the soundtrack to Grease was like (everything else). Because the album changes tone so many times in 40 short minutes, it takes a while to find the record's heart. But it's there - and when it hooks you, it hooks hard.
The album is held together by Mother's voice, which alternates between The Make Up's exasperated screaming and Bryan Ferry-style crooning. In fact, the closest reference point here is Roxy Music - good, Virginia Plain Roxy Music, not bad, Dance Away Roxy Music. Mother And The Addicts have put a great big bloody smile on our faces. One to watch, definitely.
STUART HERITAGE
The Telegraph
The irony of the current revival of post-punk - music from that turbulent era at the turn of the '70s, when bands on either side of the Atlantic strove to fill the tabula rasa left by punk with fresh, unique visions for rock's future - is that all of today's would-be revivalists sound exactly the same as each other. Back in the day, this twitchy-riffed plagiarism would have been laughed out of town. Notable exceptions include Franz Ferdinand (obviously), and fellow Glaswegians Mother and the Addicts, who, above and beyond their rather disturbing name, breathe a genuine sense of havoc and unpredictability into their music.
The quintet's debut album is an absolute riot. With its chiming, off-kilter guitars, the title track suggests a weird, unhinged version of Rip It Up by Orange Juice (another Glasgow connection). In general, the outré, unruly art-punk band Swell Maps are clearly referenced. Amid the aural chaos, there's a clear pop sensibility, occasionally tinged with disco, as in 'Own Sensation', and the album closes with a beautiful Brian Eno-esque synth instrumental.
Here, brilliantly, one really can expect the Unexpected.
ANDREW PERRY
Artrocker - August 2005
Ah, and here is another fine specimen from Glasgow – hot on the heel of world conquering Franz Ferdinand and the scrumptious Sons & Daughters – here we find the peculiar side of Scotland’s second city. Introducing themselves they lay down the gauntlet: "History has known many great mothers, Mary, Teresa, Victoria Beckham - but only one of them has been a twenty something male from Glasgow via Brighton, whose children are a motley conglomerate of artists, eccentrics and genial abusers."
Arriving in the land of haggis and male skirt via Brighton, Mother is the alter ego of singer/songwriter Sam Smith and his addicts are a rag bag of collective local Scots. Jerky, quirky and all things perky you can’t help but dance to this record. This is a fantastic collection of art school glam that’s straight out of Dr Feelgoods locker and straight onto the New York Dolls tour bus.
Spiky opener ‘They Don’t Even Like You’ is the sound of the Ramones being stomped on by Gary Glitters size 9’s and being molested by a sparkle stick – and is oh, delightfully sleazy indeed – Mother sings "Sucking/fucking/its all so much fun" – which, let’s be honest, is very hard to argue with. With it’s foot tapping title track ‘Take The Lovers Home Tonight’ it’s part disco, part post punk and is the sound of Franz Ferdinand is they got a bit experimental. The fune doesn’t stop there with ‘F Me Mummy I’m Ugly’ they compete with Electric Six for madness; it’s like a crazy mouthful of space dust. The stand out track is the cheeky kick in the balls and run ‘Oh Yeah…You Look Quite Nice.’ Sam Smith sounding paranoid is retching and virtually trying to eat his own words, listening to it makes you think that you’re doing something a little naughty, but very exciting and makes you want to run to the dance floor, jump and doo wop in front of everybody.
‘Far Away’ is just too odd to describe, starting like a Hammer Horror film, it’s narrated by a rather ghostly sounding chap and what sounds like Gollum from Lord of the Rings being strangled and as it echoes through the mist it turns into a bitter croon. ‘Who Art You Girls?’ is Shangri-Las 60’s girls group pop but for the art-punk generation.
It’s chaotic, unconventional, messy, gritty, charismatic, dark, quirky and quite possibly the most fun I’ve had with a CD in ages.
LEE PUDDEFOOT
Kerrang - August 2005
GLASGOW FIVE PIECE UNLEASH DERANGED DEBUT
Based around the strange alias of Sam Smith, aka Mother, this Scottish outfit are not your average rock band. There’s the weird titles ‘Oh Yeah…You Look Quite Nice’ and ‘Who Art You Girls?’ – not to mention the off kilter lyrics and chaotic delivery, all making for one of the freakiest debuts of the year. It’s a scruffy mix of dark electronics, skewed solos, frantic rhythms and jittery vocals and, from catchy opener ‘They Don’t Even Like You’ it rockets through nonsensical spoken word interludes, choral sections, horns and the occasional handclap. Utterly madcap. [KKKK]
CAMILLA PIA