An album’s name can say a lot. It can grab your attention and lure you in as listener. It can create expectations about how the next forty odd minutes of music may unfold. In a way, it can act as a statement about the band who came up with it in the first place, whether it’s bold and ambitious, vague and pretentious, or even just plain dull.
So, after dubbing his début album with a name like ‘The Alchemist’s Apprentice’, you might imagine that electronic act Man In A Room would conjure up something magical, mysterious and other-worldly with his music. Well, you would be wrong. All this album conjures up is an overwhelming sense of boredom and frustration, because the ten songs that the man in question, Dublin producer Steven Connolly, has delivered here verge so far towards that chilled and ambient side of electronica that they’re devoid of anything that comes close to being called “memorable”.
In fact, most of the tracks feel like they could have been lifted straight from a 1990’s compilation used to soundtrack seemingly suave dinner parties and/or furniture store ads: the laid-back beats, mellow soundscapes, floaty instrumentals and slow, layered vocals are all there. Some songs, like Night Mail and The Confidential, even come complete with stereotypical sax and Anchorman-esque flute solos, while Mr Grey, with its fondness for cymbals and tinkling piano, picks up that semi-jazz vibe and continues it to generic effect.
The (slightly) faster-moving Marveland does offer a change of pace though: after a somewhat ominous opening, it shows off an attitude which the rest of the album generally lacks, even if the vocals do veer in the over-wrought direction at times. The fun, catchy Big Time Harvey follows it up, feeling more like a throwback to the 1970’s with its prominent bass-line and upbeat brass section. The two stand out not because they’re amazing tracks, but just because they’re that bit different to everything else that’s happening around them.
And that’s the album’s major flaw: there’s too much of the one thing, and that thing was already over-done fifteen years ago. It is well-produced; it does feature talented vocalists, such as Civilian and Natasha Tsirou; and it is clear that Connolly knows the direction he wanted the album to take – but none of that can take away from the fact that ‘The Alchemist’s Apprentice’ is, to be blunt, bland and forgettable. It’s unusual for an album’s name to be more interesting than its contents, but that’s sadly a claim that Man In A Room would be able to make.