Scatterbrain

Chronique

Having previously categorized their sound as "distorted pop," Aberdeen three-piece the Xcerts appear to have had a change of heart for their second album, Scatterbrain. As evident on the almost unlistenable feedback-drenched intro, "Tar OK," the first half of that description still rings true, but other than the anthemic Biffy Clyro-esque stadium rock of "Young (Belane)" and "Carnival Time," there's little here to match the second. Indeed, with producer Mike Sapone (Brand New, Taking Back Sunday) on board, the follow-up to 2009's In the Cold Wind We Smile is a much gloomier and more intense affair, dominated by low-slung grungy basslines, echo-laden winding guitars, and Murray MacLeod's heavily Scottish-accented tones, which on the likes of the emotive "Distant Memory" and the Pixies-inspired "Gum," are also prone to the occasional tortured howl. A convincing throwback to the early-'90s Sub Pop scene it may be, but it's only on the low-key offerings, such as the "lighters in the air" atmospherics of "He Sinks, He Sleeps" and the acoustic melancholy of closer "Lament" that the band begins to carve out any identity of its own. On this resolutely bleak affair, the Xcerts don't exactly appear to be concerned with chasing mainstream success, which is rather appropriate considering Scatterbrain is just a little too one-note to make anywhere near the same kind of impression as the records that so obviously inspired it.

© Jon O'Brien /TiVo