THIS EMPIRE

 

So, what are fans of attitude riddled Brit-Rock to do now that Oasis has split up? It’s a bit of a conundrum, isn’t it?

“But Stephe,” I hear you cry, while suppressing a smirk at the pretentiousness of this writer’s abbreviation. “Haven’t you heard? Liam Gallagher’s started a new band with loads of ex-Oasis people called Beady Eye. They’ve been on Jools Holland and everything.”

Hmmm.

Hmmm indeed. For while Liam may be glad to be rid of his older brother/rival/nemesis, there’s little denying where the actual talent was to be found in the band who named themselves after a leisure centre in Swindon. The result is something of a lack-lustre performance on a lack-lustre set of songs.

But we’re not here to talk about Beady Eye. And we’re not here to talk about Oasis. We’re not even here to analyse the dynamic between siblings in bands (why did the Gallaghers and the Davies brothers fail to get on yet the Pierce sisters – new album out soon, by the way – get on famously? Is it just a matter of differing approaches from the sexes? Probably not).

No, we’re here to discuss This Empire and their album “England’s Green”. Let’s start with the record’s artwork. As with many covers from the era the band holds such an affinity with (a twilight image of a band swaggering, backs to the sunset, on Embrace’s “Good Will Out”; all bar one band member staring at some mysterious point on the horizon on “Urban Hymns”; or the celebration of decadence, Roller in the swimming pool and all, on “Be Here Now”), This Empire’s album cover is there to make a statement.

The Sittingbourne band’s album cover features an image of two guitars (one painted with a union flag) and a bass, watched over by a sepia photo of a World War II RAF pilot. There are flowers laid against the union flag be-decked guitar suggesting some kind of sense of grief: mourning the death of something uniquely British. Brit-Rock maybe? Then again, with the military man in the background, the feeling of grief may be for something much wider.

And so “England’s Green” with all that title’s evocations from Hubert Parry’s “Jerusalem” to The Kinks’ “Village Green Preservation Society” forms something of a tribute to a certain type of English nationalism – minus, you‘ll be delighted to hear – any Nick Griffin-ish over- or indeed undertones.

At least, I hope you’re delighted to hear it. If you aren’t delighted, it may be time for us to stop being friends.

There can be no denying that the songs on this album owe much to Oasis: feet placed squarely on the distortion pedals, soaring guitar solos coming in bang on cue, snarling, swaggering vocals sneering their way through your ears with relentless determination, oblivious to the world outside.

But This Empire are far from an Oasis tribute act. You’d be hard pressed to mistake them for the real deal. There are hints of other influences in there too. The allusions to Embrace and The Verve above were not for nothing. There are also hints of influences of acts as diverse as The Arctic Monkeys, The Ramones and The Stereo MCs here; not to mention an array of Liverpudlian garage and beat bands from the 60s onwards.

For all the pomp and circumstance, the bold as brass Gallagherisms and all the bravado that comes with it, “England’s Green” is a rather melancholy record. Those flowers on the cover are there for a reason. Like the lyrics in many of This Empire’s songs they are marking the passing of something – or some things: the death of dreams.

Dreams appear in many of the album’s tracks: “All the places that you’ve been are locked up in your dreams” (“England’s Green”), “Put them in a box/we’ll call it lonely dreams (“Lucky Escape”), “Keep your dream/they make you who you are” (“Keep the Dream”) and “When did you dreams fade away?” (“Man From London Bridge”).

Where dreams are not specifically mentioned, metaphors for aspiration, and loss thereof, permeate the record. Souls are stolen in “Let It Lie” and pleaded with in “Outta My Reach”.

Meanwhile the sky and the sun both serve as code words for hopes and desires: “Could you be the one who lights up the sun? (“Gotta Let Me Know”), “Can’t you see the light that is shining?” (“Outta My Reach”) and “It’s only raining ‘cos the sun don’t shine” which is later swapped round to “it’s never raining ’cos the sun still shines” (“Keep the dream”).

Of course, This Empire are not alone in mourning the passing of dreams – and awaiting their resurrection, most poignantly demonstrated in “Man from London Bridge” where an old man is asked where it all went wrong. Many a band, many an artist has contemplated the death of ambition; the wearying decay of passion as pragmatism and practicalities take their inevitable hold.

But for This Empire to make something of a concept album out of it (right down to the record’s artwork) is something slightly different. It shows that far from being the Oasis copyists an initial listen may suggest, more than a little amount of creativity and emotional investment has gone into the creation of an album that seeks not only to revive a musical style, but a whole way of thinking.

 

http://www.facebook.com/thisempire

 

Disclaimer: All comments and opinions are those of the writer.

 

 

12/05/2011 • England’s Green Album Review

By Stephen Morris • Photos by

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