Alfie � 'Crying at Teatime' (Regal) Released 15/08/05

Crikey! Anyone expecting Alfie to still be peddling their brand of charming but ultimately inconsequential stoner folk is in for a hell of a pleasant surprise with this Manchester band's fourth album,  'Crying at Teatime'.

For starters, opener ‘Your Own Religion’ couldn’t be further removed from the sedate seating arrangements and polite lack of bombast of the still-born ‘New Acoustic Movement’, a genre that the suitably low-key Alfie was lumped in with on their emergence in 2000.  A soaring power-pop gem reminiscent of Super Furry Animals, the Flaming Lips and their various 1960’s predecessors, fans of whom will do themselves a massive favour by seeking out this album immediately, it arrives wielding hooks more contagious than a particularly feisty flu and a rare ability to score equally high readings on unashamed catchiness and wide-scoped ambition. 

What follows is even better. ‘Look at You Now’, a spellbinding blend of spiralling, folk-tinged melodies boosted by lustrous choral harmonies and a sturdy backbeat, is a melancholy feat, and further David Axelrod-esque meetings of the pastoral, the psychedelic and the downright funky are in store with the string-soaked epic ‘Til The End’ and the expansive twin peaks of ‘Applecart’ and ‘Kitsune’. Elsewhere, the muscular riff-o-rama of ‘All Too Heavy Now’ adds a bit of beef to the proceedings, while the stirring lament for lost love that is ‘Where Did Our Loving Go’ proves the five-piece is capable of crafting cheddar-less choruses huge enough to land a jet or two on. The whimsy  ‘Wizzo’ and the straight-ahead chug of the title track fare less well, but they are minor blotches on a collection that habitually gets through enough top grade ideas in a single four-minute song to sustain most bands for entire albums.

Lee Gorton’s voice, not unlike the mellow meowing of a particularly laidback cat, remains a limited tool, but his easygoing tones provide perfect balance to the album’s painstakingly detailed widescreen arrangements which reward repeated listens amply.

“The world is full colours”, goes the gentle ‘Colours’, and so is this experimental, imaginative, sure-footed and frequently beautiful album. Why be content with the monochrome of the punk-funk brigade and the fluorescent glow of the synth-saturated 80’s throwbacks when the whole dizzyingly bright range of the rainbow is on offer right here?