Konk

by

The Kooks

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Brighton's Kooks sneakily sold two million copies of their debut album, "Inside In/Inside Out".

Their breezy indie pop was an unchallenging pleasure, but it was obvious they wished to be taken more seriously.

Their solution here is to keep the tunes and beef up the electric guitars, which works fine on "Down to the Marke"t and the energetic single "Always Where I Need to Be", though Luke Pritchard's smooth voice frequently strains towards aggression and falls short.

Simplistic lyrics (he endlessly asks, "Do you wanna make love to me?" on Do "You Wanna", and even sings the alphabet on "One Last Time") fail to give the depth the band strive for. They're still catchy, but greater significance eludes them.

Whatever you thought of their first album, "Inside In/Inside Out", prepare to think the same of "Konk".

If you liked it, this is as cute, chirpy and unpretentious; if you didn't, this is as bland, repetitive and unoriginal.

They haven't changed a bit.

"See the Sun" (fast indie-lite jangle) and "Sway" (slow indie-lite jangle) are the likeliest hits.

The good thing about the Kooks is they try to make each song catchy enough to be a single.

..."Konk" is not without its accomplishments, but it lacks the drive and far more importantly, the anthemic qualities of their debut.

It's too early to count them out, but they'll need to try harder with album number three".BBC

Inside In/Inside Out

Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not

The Kooks follow in a long line of recent British bands that have defined themselves not only with irrepressibly catchy pop songs and lovelorn lyrics but also a well-developed ego to match. Singer Luke Pritchard had this to say about the band's latest album: "I want our singles to come on the radio and for people to literally have their heads blown off by them."

Their arrogance shows right off the bat on Konk's first single "Always Where I Need To Be," announcing itself with a bombastic riff and Pritchard's oft-annoying cockney accent. The Kooks have perfected the formula for the perfect pop song: doo-doo-doos in the chorus, Pritchard's amusing but contrived Jagger-esque howls, and a stuck-in-your-head beat.

"Mr. Maker" is recycled Britpop, "Shine On" is dripping with the corniest sentiments this side of the Goo Goo Dolls, and Pritchard's lyrics generally could use more than a little work. But it is guitarist Hugh Harris that saves the album. From the multi-tracked wizardry of "Do You Wanna" to the tasteful strumming on "Sway" to the ridiculously bouncy riffs and solos on virtually any song, Harris' work makes the album a relatively pleasing memory of Britpop's heyday.