REVIEW: Radford, Radford (RCA)
- Scott Slonaker
Radford is a band that sounds exactly like the sum of its parts; a (now) traditional rock quartet, with American musicians (guitarist Chris Hower, bassist Bobby Stefano, drummer Kane McGee) and an expatriate Englishman in singer Jonny Mead. In addition, superproducer Paul Fox (10,000 Maniacs, Grant Lee Buffalo) and prolific mixer Tom Lord-Alge are on board. Add to this the fact that Radford signed directly to RCA in 1998 without releasing any indie albums of note, and it's not difficult to figure out that the band is going to have a late '90s radio-rock sound. The polish on this debut album is considerable, given the producer and mixer and the band's decision to toss all of the material from early demos and live shows in order to start fresh.
Still, it's undeniable that Radford's self-titled debut contains a handful of hits in waiting. Following the "Rock 'n' Roll Star" Britpop swagger of the opening track, "You've Got Friends", the singles are up front Motown-style. "Closer to Myself" and "Let Down" are seamless, hummable AOR hit material, built to fit right between Matchbox 20 and Third Eye Blind. (Oddly, "Don't Stop", a recent minor radio hit, is not on this album, although principal lyrics of "Let Down" are "Don't stop giving it, 'cause you don't know how I feel.") Another single-to-come, "Fly", unfortunately marries a sweeping, string-laden, classic rock-ballad arrangement to the sort of therapist-friendly rationalizations ("It's okay to want to be free / It's okay to spread your wings") that are all too typical of power ballads of the last decade. Where's the love? (Skid Row, come back; all is forgiven.) Still, the melody is obvious enough for Top 40 crossover. The best song on the album is "Over You", which is better Third Eye Blind in ballad-mode than anything Third Eye Blind has done themselves, soaring effortlessly like a lost classic. The song's burial in the middle of the album, however, doesn't seem to indicate much for its single-release chances. The record ends with multiple questions ("Where Do You Go?", "How Does It Feel?") that simulate one of those "feedback" market-research postcards that always end up in the circular file.
The problem with Radford, like many other hit-oriented new acts, is distinctivity. Singer Mead is perfectly solid, but his voice doesn't stand out or even sound accented after the first track. The band's sound seems built to fit in, rather than stand out. This is not meant to imply that Radford is by most means a bad record -- producer Fox's sonic template is as wide as always, and the band varies their approach decently- but without the DJ reminding you who you're listening to, there wouldn't be much compulsion to remember.
