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Gentle Ben and
his Sensitive Side - 'The Beginning of the End'
spooky013
Reviews
Incendiary Magazine - The Netherlands This bunch of fellas come from Brisbane, Australia, but don’t let that put you off. It’s not often that you should get excited about an Australian band, but although these guys don’t have the looks (or the arse) of Kylie Minogue they’re still worth taking notice of. For starters, Gentle Ben and His Sensitive Side is the coolest band name I’ve heard in donkeys years. So they get points for that. Secondly, their album is only half an hour long, so it doesn’t outstay its welcome. Third and most importantly, their album is excellent. Honestly. It’s full of passion, humour and vitality. It makes me smile from ear to ear and it makes me want to dress in a sharp, ill fitting suit, grow a ridiculous quiff and dance round the living room like an uncle at a wedding (ie: badly and with no rhythm). It’s that good. The Beginning of the End was released down there in Cork Hat land back in the spring of 2004 or thereabouts and now, thanks to those Wombat lovers over at Undertow Recordings, it’s available up here in these sunken lands as well. It’s an album that sounds like the missing link between Nick Cave and Pulp. True, that’s not an avenue that many bands have ever examined in great detail before, but it’s proved to be very fertile ground indeed. Imagine, if you will, what it would be like if Nick Cave spent some time in the sun and smiled every now and again, or if Jarvis and co had kept examining the darker themes of This Is Hardcore and Party Hard instead of writing a final album about Sunrises and Trees and you’ll find yourself in Gentle Ben territory. As I’m sure you’re now imagining, that’s a pretty entertaining place to be. This album is a joy from start to finish. Gentle Ben himself possesses a voice and delivery that’s so earnest and ridiculously theatrical you’re constantly trying to decide whether he’s going to break down and cry or scream at you like a banshee. Invariably he’ll do both and often within the same song. He keeps you constantly on edge and that sense of unpredictability is what makes the album so exciting. The tunes themselves are well crafted, with the Sensitive Side developing a series of hop, skip and jump drumbeats surrounded by fuzzy guitars and cool, gentle keyboards. The Beginning of the End is an intoxicating mix of country, pop and cabaret and it works wonderfully. Whether it’s the bounciness of the title track or the Latin flavour of I Don’t Think She Loves Me (complete with fabulous handclaps) or the Pavement like time changes of Moonlight Sea it all sounds great. Special praise must be given to Don’t Wait, which begins with a gentle drum beat and a quiet, broken voice before steadily building into a bizarre sing-a-long chorus that sounds like a forgotten part of the Grease soundtrack. It’s hilarious and enthralling at the same time, much like the rest of the album. If this really is the Beginning of the End (and if we’re getting good quality music from Down Under then it may just well be) then Gentle Ben and His Sensitive Side are providing us with a decent sending off party. So just clear the living room floor, slick back your hair and go for it. You may never get to be an Uncle at a wedding, after all. Damian Leslie Lowcut – Denmark This is without a doubt the most relaxed, and yes, gentle release I had to review for this issue. Atmospheric, witty, romantic and wellcrafted semi-twangy songs that recall the works of Calexico, Johnny Cash, Lee Hazelwood, Pixies, Nick Cave and Tom Waits. I'm surprised I dug it as much as I did since its not the usual testosterone-driven overkill noize that rampage my stereo, but its just so damn well done. Easy listening, but not shallow or sugarcoated, there's real heart and emotions behind these adult alt/americana cuts - music that'll get ya laid? haha. Anyway, a bonafide gem from the always eclectic Spooky Records. Gentle Bob hails from Brisbane, Australia.
Jens Sleazegrinder – Boston, USA This aptly named group of remarkably subtle Aussie nu-country folk mix up a drunk-by-noon cocktail of Nick Cave croon and strumming, storytelling C&W that really IS gentle and sensitive, even as I sit here and brace myself for the inevitable attack of dead-dog acid blues or jagged industro-noise or whatever nasty trick Ben and the boys have in store. Ah, but that may be the greatest trick of all – this honeymoon does not end in red at all, but in the Johnny Cash-ed honky tonk ballad “Tired of Happiness”. Along the way, there’s bare-bones heart renders like the suicide-calliope of “La Siento”, deep blue Roy Orbison-styled rockers like “Don’t Wait” and “Falling”, the sad and rainy acoustic scrapings of “Falling in Love”, and the roots rockin’ “Spell of the Moon”. It’s like the soundtrack for a spaghetti western about a really weepy gunfighter. This is definitely mood music, but it’s the kind of mood we’re all in sometimes, as song titles like “I Don’t Think She Loves Me” and “I Can’t Hurt You” can, woefully, attest to; so next time you’re feeling melancholy and/or a little heart-sick, keep this one in mind. Ben and the fellas are just as gentle and sensitive as Leonard Cohen, but they don’t make you want to stick your head in an oven nearly as much. -Sleazegrinder PlatoMania - The Netherlands Viermansformatie uit Brisbane, Australië rond de zanger die inderdaadBen heet en waarschijnlijk nog vriendelijk is op de koop toe. The Beginning Of The End heet het vermakelijke debuut waarop robuuste popsongs en slijpers elkaar afwisselen. Vriendelijke Ben zingt even verwrongen en geacteerd als David Bowie aan deze kant van de aardbol, gepassioneerd en een beetje geacteerd. En in het Spaans als het moet, zoals in het spannende Lo Siento. Elvis kennen ze daar ook, dat is duidelijk te horen in Falling In Love. Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side klinken een beetje als het Calexico van Down Under. Maar de ultrakorte afsluiter Happiness getuigt tevens van bekwaam, maar enigszins weggemoffeld singer-songwriterschap. Curieus en goed. Kindamuzik – The Netherlands De bandnaam en de voorkant van het album zeggen het al voor een deel: we hebben hier te maken met een stelletje softies. De bij op de cover is dood en het lieveheersbeestje fluistert hem, waarschijnlijk triomfantelijk, een verhaaltje in zijn oor. Op de achterkant is de bij opgeslagen in een dichtgedraaide jampot. Het venijn is verdwenen, wat over blijft is het aardige lieveheersbeestje. Zachtaardige Ben en zijn gevoelige kant. Zanger Ben Corbett wil graag de erfgenaam van Nick Cave, Johnny Cash en Elvis zijn, maar is eerder een verstokte fan die het goed zal doen tijdens de karaoke. De dramatische snik in zijn stem doet me vermoeden dat hij dat zelf ook best weet. De mix van country en rock in de traditie van de hiervoor genoemde idolen wordt in een gelikt jasje gegoten, waardoor elke vorm van uit de bocht vliegen niet meer mogelijk is. Zelf als ze rocken klinkt het nog braaf. Risico’s worden vermeden en zelfs de Spaanse ritmes geven de muziek geen extra pit. Hierdoor is de band goed op zijn plaats in radioprogramma’s voor ouderen en liefhebbers die het wat rustiger aan willen doen. Ik heb het liever scherper en gedurfder.
Buzz Magazine – Melbourne, Australia There’s something incredibly alluring and kinda disturbing about liking Gentle Ben and His Sensitive Side. The awesome array of fine tunes emanating from, ‘The Beginning Of The End’ are almost indescribable. Full of passion, honesty, integrity yet mixing it up with, “rockstar” personality – complete with brashness, cockiness and attitude – it all works ensuring you sit up and take notice. Combining a love of Elvis, Nick Cave, Johnny Cash and Jarvis Cocker with country tenderness, rock’n’roll angst and ultimate showmanship, GB & HSS deliver a range of cool, almost kooky songs, bound to engross, engage and immerse themselves in your mind. From the keyboard antics of the album’s title track to the daring, I Don’t Think She Loves Me, with salt-shaker, hand-claps and Spanish lyrics, right through to the majestic, very sorrowful, Falling In Love, with a sly wink to Elvis. Some of the ten tracks shake, rattle and roll their way through while the others deliver slow, heartfelt, almost hurtful emotions. It’s a great combo that works on many levels and is bound to impress.
Blunt - Australia Brisbane hillbillies Six Ft Hick have been whooping up storms and bleeding on audience members for years now, mainly courtesy of it’s unhinged brotherly singing duo Geoff and Ben Corbett. But while Geoff is off making music with his other band the Tremors, Ben is left to show his “Sensitive Side”. And what a side it is. With Dave McCormack’s little brother and Polaroid’s bandmate, Dylan on guitar, plus a couple of guys he plays with in another makeshift outfit called Skippy Showband. At times Gentle Ben sounds like Nick Cave, at others Elvis, and sometimes David Bowie, as the band busy themselves with a varied mix of old-time rock ‘n’ roll tunes. AS DB Magazine – Adelaide, Australia
There's a familiarity to 'The Beginning Of The End'
that'll smack at the edge of your memory from the first track; an insanely
strong reminiscence that conjures recollections of various great singers and
bands yet so elusive it remains a mental itch that can't be scratched. It would
almost be irritating if this weren't such a damned great and individual record
in its own right, but 'The Beginning Of The End' demands your attention, holds
it throughout the album's course and, most importantly, doesn't let go through
repeated listens. The Electric Newspaper - Australia With a voice that’s oh-so-similar to an Antipodeans version of Jarvis Cocker, Gentle Ben is proof positive that there’s still a whimsical side to BrisVegas apart from the serious chaps of Powderfinger. With a similar aesthetic to Custard/Custaro/the Titanics/the Polaroids frontman Dave McCormack, Gentle Ben and his Sensitive Side (featuring Dave’s brother, and fellow Polaroid member, Dylan on guitars and keys) rock in that delightfully obtuse manner that made Custard such a breath of fresh air – but where Dave McCormack’s vocals were always the key to his band’s sound, Gentle Ben and his Sensitive Side rely far more on the interplay of instrumentation found on The Beginning of the End. The ten songs on offer here positively fly by, with the spiky pop of “I Can’t Hurt You” a sure-fire winner sitting alongside the flamenco funk of “I Don’t Think She Loves Me”. Gentle Ben’s voice is, like Cocker’s, full of longing and totally at odds with his wild-man persona apparent in his other band, Six Ft. Hick. There, too, he plays at being someone he’s not – if there he’s a redneck wonderman that makes Shane from The Shield look like an intelligent and reasonable human being, on The Beginning of the End he’s the sensitive crooner that every woman will want to take him and introduce to the family. Andrew Time Off – Brisbane, Australia Gentle Ben aka Ben Corbett (also vocalist in country-fried rock outfit SixFtHick) takes us on a journey of heartache and love out of control with this first solo outing. Backed by the Sensitive Side, the album flickers between country soul, brooding rock and Spanish flair. Guitarist Dylan McCormack (Titanics, Polaroids) couples his exceptional guitar work with Ben’s voice and is crucial in creating the moods. ‘Falling In Love’ possesses the crushing weight of a Roy Orbison crescendo, ‘I Can’t Hurt You’ has the menace and rhythm of a Queens Of The Stone Age trip while ‘Lo Siento’ has a sadness within it that nobody should ever feel. While it seems they don’t know whether to be a pop band, rock group or country troupe, in the end it all boils down to the best bastard offspring ever to spawn from the Beasts Of Bourbon tradition. Richard Alverez Faster Louder - Australia From the opening of The Beginning Of The End, it's clear that there's something special going on. A swivel-hipped songster with a forked tongue, Ben Corbett - half of SixFtHick's twin-headed vocal beast - prowls this platter of tunes like a schizophrenic strongman in the mood for love. From the steamy locale of Brisbane via the go-go singles of the '50s, a little town called Tijuana and anywhere that's bedecked in velvet and mirror balls, Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side have delivered a collection (too short!) of tunes that you'll quickly store in the I Wish More Bands Did This Kinda Thing file. Assuming you can get it off your stereo. The sort of blended fare here - it's sometimes hard to tell if sweet, sweet lovin' or a smack to the head's in store - draws broad comparisons with Vegas-era Elvis (if he were prettier), Kim Salmon's cabaret stylings (if he were less cynical), the windblown power of Calexico (without some of the wank they've accumulated) and the death's head iconography of Nick Cave (with slightly less preachifyin'). What Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side have pulled off - straight out of the box - is what Dave Graney seems to be reaching for but is never quite able to grasp. What's more, the ironic shield of the joke isn't in use. This album's a rarity: an exploration of lonesome, almost-too-seedy cabaret that doesn't seem to have its roots in pisstaking. It's indulgent, sleazy, hilarious and tear-in-beer moving by turns - and it's far tighter and more accomplished than any debut should be, by rights. There's rarely been something produced that's so fully-formed from the get-go. And that's not idle; the lyricism at work here is fabulous. A sort of emotional fatalism, a distanced dissection of the acts of a bastard... it's all a bit noir, with hints of barely-contained anger, mysterious burial and unexplained passions. Take some choice lines from Lo Siento, for example: I
screamed and I spat in the eye of the storm Of course, the vocal work, fine as it is, would be nothing without the band behind it. And the musicians assembled here - Dylan McCormack, Nick Naughton and Trevor Ludlow being the band's core, with additional help from David McCormack, Shane Melder and Lauren Brown - are the perfect foils for Corbett's perversely cinematic vocals. The tunes borrow from many musical styles - there's keyboard-driven pop sounds that'd be welcome on Gidget's beach blanket parked next to martial drumming and a low-down western guitar. Falling features a powerful, emotive wailed chorus that sounds like it's been lifted from a Roy Orbison track. Don't Wait uses the same sense of crescendo - but with a more soulful effect. There's a mish-mash happening here, with perhaps the only unifying factor being a sense of seediness, a sort of shabbiness, some midnight radio feel hard to define. There's no sense of battle between vocalist and band - instead, it's a wonderful blend. Interestingly, the songs here appear to be a further examination of currents that've always been present in the work of SixFtHick. The Lap Of Luxury's Last Lullaby, for example, hinted at some of the quieter backwaters of darkness that Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side explore. And with most of its brace of songs clocking in under three minutes, The Beginning Of The End offers a series of enigmatic portraits that whet the appetite. Falling In Love offers a nice twist on the ideas of the Elvis tune of the same name, while Moonlight Sea makes a watery demise sound appealing in a half-drunk sort of way. Most immediate of all, however, is I Don't Think She Loves Me - a half-Spanish, half-English, all passion tune adorned in handclaps and rodeo screams. It's difficult to get anything other than an oblique view of what's happening, but like a keyhole vision, the tales intrigue. If you've ever seen Gentle Ben... live, you'll know that one of the ensemble's strengths is the way they can move from whip-cracking strength to heart-on-sleeve po'boy-ism in the sweep of a verse. With some bands, recording songs of this nature robs them of the shamanic power that a gig can have, alcohol-enhanced or not. Thankfully, the way Ben Corbett strides the stage, an elegant, razor-cheekboned huckster badboy, flamenco-stepping through the smoke to croon or wail with furrowed brow, supported by his supple band - has survived the transition to tape. It's theatrical, yes, but it all just works. I Can't Hurt You is a great example. A tale of weeping and beating, it veers between the low-key and the swing-arsed rocking - but without any sense of the emotional release being ill-considered or forced. Similarly, the lupine derangement of the group is also in evidence on Spell Of The Moon. A howling Corbett exhorts the moon to shine down on him while circling tones - like a persistent ringing in the ears, echoed tenfold - run rings around the band's subtly tidal Mexican lament. The vocal line stops, and the two styles - south-of-the-border versus UFO - try to outpace each other, before the song ends without a feel of a victor. Uneasiness prevails; uneasiness clothed in insanity. Poisonous spines and retribution coming down the hall: that's what, more than anything else, these songs sound like. The album ends with the plaintive Happiness, a song that begins with the sound of footsteps. It's as if - armed only with a guitar - Ben's providing an apology for all that's gone before, Jimmie Rodgers-style. All the grandeur and the drama of the album are prologue: "I'm skippin' town while you are cryin'," he laments, a masochist who no longer desires happiness or the solace of togetherness. Hell, the litany of things you could do to him without retribution - throw his possessions in the rain, tell people he's gone nuts, 'cause it doesn't matter - is surpassed only by the sense of resignation that's communicated to us, "the pearl before the swine". Faintly discernable backing vocals give a ghostly feel to what turns out to be the perfect closer. Short and sweet, The Beginning Of The End is a cocktail of dangerous beauty. Head for nearest velvet-draped establishment in your finest rayon and get ready to toast them, because if this is any indicator of Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side's potential, the main course will be a killer. Literally. Luke |
