The debut album from The Tunics, 'Dabbler's Handbook' appears on the scene like a long lost Britpop album found in the toilets of The Good Mixer. With swirling keyboards, piercing guitars and sneering, nasal, Alex Turner-esque vocals, it's the very definition of the word 'retro', wearing it's influences firmly and loudly on it's sleeve (Suede, Cast, Arctic Monkeys, Libertines etc). With such an obviously derivative sound, 'Dabbler's Handbook' begs an obvious (and unavoidable) question, are we being offered anything here that we couldn't find by cracking open a Shine compilation circa 1996?
Opening track 'Berlin' sets out the overall tone of the album, ostensibly landfill indie, bemoaning that 'life isn't fair', all in a similar vein to that which The Paddingtons, Milburn, and The Others were unsuccessfully pedalling five or six years ago. Except in the case of The Tunics, everything's very nicely produced, with an inoffensive slick sheen, thus losing any of the DIY rawness of it's predecessors. 'I'm Broke, You're Bored', with it's plonking piano and stabbing guitar intro, feels as though the intention was 'epic', but instead the result is more akin to (dare I say it?) Keane, and instead sets it's stall as a soundtrack contender for dinner parties throughout the land. Early single, 'Cost Of Living' is conspicuous by it's absence, which is ultimately a shame, given that it's stronger than anything we're presented with here.
Closing track 'Dear God' couldn't be any more Suede if Brett Anderson were frotting all over it whilst Bernard Butler watched on. In an era where Suede have reformed and keep playing their albums in full, you have to ask yourself, what's the point of The Tunics? Do we need them, or should we just go see Brett Anderson do his whacked out heroin chic live at the O2, on a Saturday night? Whatever makes you happy, I guess.Rating: 3/10
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