In retrospect it was probably one of those ‘Where were you when…’ moments. Wild Beasts? Never heard of them, but it’s on Domino so it’s bound to be interesting at least. Crash, bang, wallop. The drums of Vigil For A Fuddy Duddy are in full flight, I’m safely belted up and driving tediously though another bumper-to-bumper tea time trawl when vocalist Hayden Thorpe introduces himself to me. Crash, bang, wallop. The ghost of the late great Associate Billy McKenzie has infiltrated the speakers, as Thorpe’s falsetto melodies nosedive over widescreen arrangements of rock’s classic quartet of drums, bass, piano, and guitar that are played with a bravado and confidence that belies their tender age. Hailing from the Lake District town of Kendall, the four piece – with an average age of 21 – have fashioned a debut album that stands head and shoulders above their contemporaries while also introducing an heir apparent to the lyrical monolith that is Morrissey. The titles are pure pantomime Moz – She Purred While I Grred, Club of Fathomless Love & Woebegone Wanderers amongst others – full of humour, double entendres and a lurid use of language that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Burgess novel. It’s thrilling stuff made even more daring by Thorpe’s manic incantations of such high camp and swooping histrionics that many listeners will struggle to get through the first minute and thereby dismiss Limbo, Panto outright. There’s no denying it’s a divisive voice that people will either love or hate, but to leave it so early would be a shame because it’s a blast of fresh air. The songs are wonderfully anarchic, irresistibly melodic affairs that retrieve musical moments of great bands like Orange Juice, The Associates, King Crimson, Sparks and Aztec Camera while adding a little Smiths jangle and the graceful vocal phrasing of David Bowie and Antony Hegarty. Highlights abound but the swooning pop of lead single Devil’s Crayon, (where bassist Tom Flemming takes on the lead vocal role with aplomb as his rich baritones offer a vital balance to the overall sound,) and the cod disco sleaze of Old Dog, a stunning slice of melancholia that rues the quick-fix of casual sex to a tune that Bowie would be proud of. Admittedly the sheer luxuriousness of the product threatens to stifle itself at times but there’s no denying that Limbo, Panto is one of the most exhilarating debut releases of recent years.
