Good afternoon omnivores!
You find me posting something with a level of embarrassment. You see, I had told myself I was going to review this EP about a year ago, having been given it by a friend of mine. Regardless, I have finally got around to it by virtue of having a dissertation to avoid doing.
On to the band themselves then. Jen and the Gents have been a fixture of Edinburgh busking for a while now, notable for being one of the rare full band set-ups to play on the street and their brand of folksy pop-rock has garnered them a modest but surprisingly international following, having gained fans amongst Edinburgh's seasonal tourist population. This first recorded offering from the band comes across, first of all, as a very approachable collection of songs. The tunes seem uncomplicated, based on the very good theory that if you have a good, catchy melody it's best to let it speak for itself without too many embellishments.
Having said that, on repeated listens, Jen and the Gents are clearly very capable musicians. One of the most nicest surprises about this album is the voice of the eponymous Jen Ewan. Once you hear her vocal tone, you will recognise it anywhere - a warm melodic mezzo soprano range drifts across the listener, with a a nice 1920s style warble to lend a little colour. On the face of it, Ewan's voice may appear a little cutesy, but this EP has enough lyrical intelligence to express more than just a romantic ditty. The first track, "Can't Look Back" tells a tale of someone confused with their life and surrounded by people who don't care, eventually leaving it all behind; the mournful refrain "felt it in my heart" is a good example of how this EP manages to provide both brilliant singalong choruses and some real emotional depth.
The next track is an unashamedly optimistic folk-pop tune provides a response to the previous track, telling the tale of life getting slowly better and the joy of having something to plan for and something to look forward to. This oscillation between confusion at life and optimism for the future is the common feature of this EP; the message seems to be that the problems of poverty and lack of direction are real and difficult, but there is always hope for the future, and the EP leaves the listener feeling like their problems are universal and their hopes are valuable.
Whilst this EP is very good, I'd like to hear more of the rockier elements higher in the mix next time around. The musical styles here are however, quite varied and go from the Hawaiian guitar licks and mandolin strumming of "A Little Bit Longer" to the flamenco rhythms of "Can't Look Back" and the melodic REM-style rock of the stand-out track "Flyaway". One of the few weaknesses here is that the pacing doesn't vary a great deal here, and the guitars are a little under-emphasised for my liking. These aside, it's almost impossible to dislike Jen and the Gents' music, it's infectious, and I'd be shocked if their fanbase didn't grow massively on the strength of this EP.
The musicality of the band members is to be applauded - the drumming provided by Stuart "Pockets" Crout is spare and understated, but effective and skilful, the guitar playing from Jen Ewan herself provides a good melodic line and some neat little licks from time to time (for example on "A Little Bit Longer"), the violins and mandolins by Ben Errington provide a very nice fullness that the songs might not otherwise have. However it is Marin Beer's bass playing which deserves the lion's share of the adulation here as he manages to provide good unobtrusive backing bass lines, at the same time as filling out a counter-melodic role and some added rhythm. His bass playing is incredibly fluid and underpins the melody of all the songs on this EP; like a folk-pop John Entwhistle he ties the various elements together and makes the bass sing.
With a new album on the way this summer, a new guitarist and a number of gigs under their belts, including a set at Eden Fest, I seriously look forward to hearing more from Jen and the Gents.
