Where on God's green earth do you begin with Jon McClure? The man's undoubtedly had his fair share of ups and downs, just take a look at the facts: He's been mentioned alongside fellow Sheffield musician's the Arctic Monkey's more times than Alexa Chung, he's been both shunned and praised for his knighthood worthy political uprising and he's even entered the odd charity football game with money-struggling ex-libertine, Carl Barat. It's no wonder the Rev went hiatus with Mongrel, every time he's mentioned it appears his music is no where to be seen.
McClure was under pressure. 'The State Of Things' received a tough critique from the publications who previously praised him, his fans and in some cases, himself. But lets be honest, it actually wasn't that bad. 'Open Your Window' and 'Heavyweight Champion...' were solid pop motifs in which McClure bellowed rather proudly. Perhaps his bark, or rather the press' perceived self-proclaimed bark, was not in fact as big as his bite. Despite this his sturdy first effort still gets the indie disco kids a'groovin', whether they like to admit it or not.
Just under two years later and his overdue second input has arrived. The Rev's had time to grow since 2007, developing as a prominent figure in both music and politics, not to mention his transformation to UK hip hop father figure, all of which have evidently not only had an effect on his lyrics and his ideologies but also his music.
The opening post-Stone Roses psychedelia of 'Silence Is Talking' basks in technicolour-dance beats with hints of Hindi and Happy Mondays. Sampling 'Low Rider' by War its familiarity will not go unnoticed, but it doesn't seem recycled. It's an up-tempo summery skit that sees McClure setting the album bench mark rather high, with mixed follow ups.
'Hidden Persuaders' is a little draining. We all know that the Rev has had his finger on the political pulse for a while now, and although his successful and rather inspiring appearance on Question Time was a poignant one, this song lacks the passion seen on such television exhibitions - with the social commentary on 'Manifesto/ People Shapers' continuing along this execution-absent trail. The ideas and the lyrics are there but the anger and distress for the spiralling control of the BNP and racist dicks alike is a little ghostly.
McClure seems to find it hard to write a political orientated anthems that rally against the fucked up and the twisted. These songs are almost there, but there's a lack of anger, I mean, he's pissed off at these people, like, really pissed off, but he doesn't come across like that on record. He drawls in a slouchy manor at times and keeps the fire and the fury a bit too secure within himself. Where we expected bellowing outrage and uncontrollable vexation we got a restricted storm that leaves us thinking that McClure still has a lot more to offer.
'Long Long Time', however, is something different, something of distinct beauty. A subtle acoustic Noel-like song that shows McClure's song writing is best when it's about the things that make your heart ache and your longing soul tremble, quickly followed up by 'No Soap In A Dirty War', the album's pinnacle point. Flowing with finesse and that ever-eloping passion we've been searching for, McClure takes the wheels off the anti-government accelerator and hops onto a romantic crest of harmonic group vocals that weep with melody and escapism as he sings 'I don't want to die in the same hole I was born' in a loving chorus that ups the credentials of this album from a six out to ten to a solid seven.
Not one to quash his original intentions, McClure returns to a politico-charged album closer, but wait! it's fucking fantastic! Alluring and graceful, 'Hard Time For Dreamers' ponders the potential end of the world beneath the mushroom clouds of nuclear missiles and inter-country invasions. Mentions of World War Three and the collapse of both the enviroment and the government seem a little far fetched, but you know what? this is the heart-pouring anthemic rant we wanted from McClure. It's a powerful ending to the album, but whether it was enough to solidify the Rev's greatness is unclear.
What was promised was not quite what we got, but it wasn't far off! Where 'The State...' lacked the anarchic angst that we were expecting, we become a little stuck with 'A French Kiss...' because it's packed full of it, the problem being maybe a little too much. When McClure is at his peak of song writing he's untouchable. A witty and articulate Sheffield messiah who could quite easily tackle countless indie bands to the ground, but when he gets all high and mighty it becomes a little insincere, despite the fact that it really isn't! This is a step forward from his debut, a real fucking giant leap in fact, leaving you thinking that McClure has a lot more to offer, but this will keep us occupied for now.
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