Garry Mulholland 

Charm school turn

Charm is a rare commodity in British pop, and charm is something Day One's Phelim has in spades. It's there in person, as he paces the stage, refusing to remove his dark designer mac, just a hint of swagger in his step, a mellow come-hither demeanour in his avuncular between-song intros. But the Phelim charm lies mainly in the lyrics on forthcoming album Ordinary Man - a set of considered-yet-vulnerable vignettes on life and love, bristling with wit and comic observation.
  
  


Charm is a rare commodity in British pop, and charm is something Day One's Phelim has in spades. It's there in person, as he paces the stage, refusing to remove his dark designer mac, just a hint of swagger in his step, a mellow come-hither demeanour in his avuncular between-song intros. But the Phelim charm lies mainly in the lyrics on forthcoming album Ordinary Man - a set of considered-yet-vulnerable vignettes on life and love, bristling with wit and comic observation.

Whether charm in itself is enough is a moot point. Tonight's first major London gig shows up all the difficulties involved in transferring subtlety and intimacy to the live arena. The band are signed to Massive Attack's Melankolic label, and it shows: songs drift by on a bed of roughish hip hop breaks, dubwise bass, and unobtrusive guitar, keyboard and violin twiddlings. Phelim's voice is pitched somewhere between Tricky-style rapper and American singer-songwriter, despite coming from Bristol and being of Irish stock. The result is that opening trio Bedroom Dancing, Waiting for a Break and the playfully vengeful Trying Too Hard sound great, winning the audience round immediately, before the set slowly peters out, in dire need of a gear change, an injection of energy, a shuffle of the aural pack.

The one attempt to alter the vibe is an acoustic version of Ordinary Man, handled only by Phelim and his writing partner Donni's celtic-flecked strumming. It's Phelim's most touching lyric, almost a New Man anthem in its self- effacing worship of the perfect, unrequited love. But this is deep in sensible, confessional AOR territory, and every tasteful nerd from Paul Simon to him out of Eels comes to mind. Not, I suspect, the effect that Day One are aiming for.

But it would be unfair to damn Day One at this juncture. The album is a delight and, if the show wasn't a revelation, it did seduce the Camden Town Massive into Phelim's sly, philosophical way of thinking. All Day One need is a shot of their label bosses' intensity, and Phelim could emerge as the thinking woman's coffee-table crumpet.

***** Unmissable **** Recommended *** Enjoyable ** Mediocre * Terrible

 

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