Beach - Missing the Action
Liam McGrady 09/08/2005
I'm listening to this record for the first time right now; although I've had it in my possession for a few weeks now. And I'll admit that the reason I've been putting it off is because a while back I reviewed the single 'Burning Up' for this very website. The lead single from 'Missing The Action', it's the sort of song that the cretinous, 80's throwback DJ's on local radio stations around the country absolutely relish - a mash up of disco and retro rock that could slip in nicely between “Geoff Barrow's Gardening Hour” and an exclusive interview with Synth Pop maestro Midge Ure (“Hey Mitch, what about that song Vienna? Does it really mean nothing to you eh? See what I did there Mitch?”). So as you can tell, the prospect of more of the same didn't thrill me; pity that's what I'm getting then. The whole thing sounds so bloody soulless; synthetic; spineless; second-rate; and if I could think of any other derogatory words beginning with S then I'd say it was those too. Right now then, while the MOR Pop Rock of 'Silent Goodbye' seems to be dragging it's feet, like it's never going to end, I've got a kind of anguished, disgusted look on my face; as if there was a horrible smell under my nose and I had cramp behind my knee. Let's face it; this isn't the sort of reaction any type of music should generate…
… That gap above signifies the rest of the album; absolutely bereft of, well, anything. It's bland, faceless music for dull, uninteresting people. It's a record made by a man called Beach Mercer - which, although this is a cheap dig, is a crap name - who comes away with words of wisdom such as, “Paint my face and I'd act like an Indian/Give me any excuse and I'd do something simian/Time to get a hard on, life's so cruel/But it's so groovy when you're playing the fool.” One track sandwiched between a radio report on rising house prices in your area, and 10 minutes of some woman talking sensually about the new Vauxhall Astra as if it was actually in some way sexual, I could probably stomach; but a whole album full is just unbearable.