Friday 13/01/06 Stephen Fretwell, Morning Runner @ Shepherds Bush Empire, London

Music journalists keep hammering on about Morning Runner being the new Coldplay. It seems odd why such a band are used as a barometer. Elbow are “the old Coldplay” for example, while The Killers are “Coldplay with synths”. The fact that The Killers are as far from Coldplay as Captain Beefheart seems neither here nor there; their achingly dull ballads are seen as the epiphany of musical inventiveness. On Morning Runner’s initial appearance the only thing that seems to tie them to Coldplay are the jarred Chris Martin-esque movements of their impassioned keyboard player Fields. There’s a story behind this initial statement however. Morning Runner are not only Coldplay’s label mates on Parlophone, but they are also the band behind the delay on Coldplay’s album after hearing them Chris Martin and co. decided their own work was not good enough and headed back to the studio.

Naturally, we approach the band perhaps a little unfairly. We’ve all been told repeatedly how this band are destined for the big time, and yet they just seem so damn serious. They are incredibly nervous, and barely look at each other while performing creating a very uncomfortable stage presence. There’s no fun and frivolity here – this music stuff is clearly a very serious business – and it leads you to wonder if the band talks to each other at all once they’re off the stage. The tracks are reasonable enough on the whole however, and it’s transparently easy to see where the comparisons come from. ‘Gone up in Flames’ has a speedy paced, offbeat style like The Coral which catches your ear. ‘No Selling Out’ is Feeder-like with a bit of keyboard chucked in, and their new single ‘Burning  Benches’ is pleasant enough if a little sentimental. While many of the songs show a lot of potential for the future, it’s difficult to get past the monotony of their performance. They’re not asking us to be in their gang, they just seem deadly serious about the importance of their music.

As a result the next act is hotly awaited. The chart seems to be suffering a deluge of singer-songwriters at the moment, will S****horpe's Stephen Fretwell be any different? His fans define the word fanatical, frequently showing their fervent appreciation during tracks to a level which the modest and amiable Fretwell must find most reassuring. What’s more, he seems to deserve it. With obvious comparisons to Simon and Garfunkel, Rufus Wainwright and Ryan Adams, Fretwell shows us a variety of tracks that demonstrate his surprising flexibility. New track ‘San Francisco Blues’ creates a deft definition between his old and new material. He’s accompanied by an equally skilled band for his non-acoustic tracks (they have some very tasteful fairy lights around their kit), who launch into their section with the track ‘Brother’. This has a great impact with its banjolike use of Fretwell’s rhythm guitar and its clashing piano chords. ‘Run’s whimsical rolling tune is unoriginal, but it has great balance and builds upon its simple melody to compensate.

So pleasant is the wash of melodies that you start to drift off and relax more than a reviewer’s brain should. Some of the melodies are a tad imitative, but the mix of sounds together is so pleasant that it seems unimportant. 'New York', one of his last tracks is stunningly sardonic. As one of the lesser known of the singer-songwriter genre, Fretwell is well worth checking out if you have sentiments in that direction, but if you don’t, you’ll be impressed by the gentleness of his earnest approach, and the play of brightness versus sadness. Lucky old S****horpe.