Butcher Boy - 'Profit In Your Poetry' (How Does It Feel) Released 05/03/07

Butcher Boy are a band led by one John Blain Hunt, a man to whom many of Glasgow’s indiescenti owe a drink or two. Ringleader of the National Pop League (the indie night immortalised by Camera Obscura) circus, John’s credentials are better than most. Now, having decided to stop playing host and instead play his songs, Butcher Boy were formed and 'Profit In Your Poetry' was born.

Sound-wise, the cello and viola layers that coat Butcher Boy’s acoustic-driven pop place them into an obvious comparison with Newcastle’s A Woman of No Importance, though other points of reference could just as easily be their Scottish peers Belle & Sebastian or, in darker moments, Sons and Daughters. John’s lyrics recall the love-weary laments of Leonard Cohen hybridised with a childlike romanticism, while the blood of Simon and Garfunkel and Love beats at the heart of his songs.

And yet, the trick isn’t quite pulled off. We listen expecting to hear Morrissey, Tindersticks, Shack, even Gene, but we don’t ever get close. Partly, it’s down to John’s vocal delivery. Yes, he’s in tune, but its far too weak to carry off what are pretty forgettable melodies in the first place. That isn’t helped by a lack of variety on the album – the melancholy strum of 'Fun' or the cascading coda of 'Days Like These Will Be The Death Of Me' are prevented from being highlights by the simple fact that it all sounds, well, the same.

And it does hurt to say that, as 'Profit In Your Poetry' is so obviously crafted with love and with care. It’s an album that yearns to be held close. It’s personal, intimate, sweet and understated. But ultimately, it’s a bit shit.