The Temperance Movement

I would imagine that naming your band after a movement that endorsed total abstinence from alcohol is probably not a strategy considered by most musicians with a desire to claim their territory in the echelons of heavy rock hierarchy... but honestly, listening to the admittedly ostentatious, gravel-voiced, rock-soaked grandeur of 'White Bear', the second outing from The Temperance Movement, I'm enjoying the irony of that particular decision.

With credentials that resonate like a newly tiled bathroom, which include the bassist from Jamiroquai, the drummer from Feeder, the guitarist from Ben's Brother AND a 'hand picked by Mick Jagger' support slot with the Stones, TTM should certainly stand up to some close scrutiny. From the jolting, somewhat surprising entrance and stomping boogie of opener "Three Bulleits", as expected (and as promised emphatically by the band's publicist), there’s a real Stones and Faces vibe throughout 'White Bear'. Where, however, the hype draws parallels with the slightly more 'hip' reference points of CSN&Y and Led Zep, the comparisons falter slightly. Regardless, by its very nature, without any inherent insincerity, the record (and, to be fair, the MO of the band) lends itself to the 'spot the influence' game. The awesome "Battle Lines" has early '70s Steppenwolf or Mountain written all over it; "A Pleasant Peace I Feel" brings to mind a more urgent reading of Reef's anthemic "Consideration"; and "The Sun And The Moon..." is as virtuosic as any offering by Philip Sayce.

Many a band, in recent times, have been slammed by the music press for not sounding original enough, not pushing at the boundaries hard enough (whatever those boundaries are for goodness sake - there are, after all only 12 notes to choose from). If you care about that sort of criticism/cynicism, you should consider investing your disposable income elsewhere - there's not much strikingly subversive or anarchic about any aspect of 'White Bear'. But, that the record sounds so wonderfully and endearingly familiar simply makes it all the more alluring: Every note emotes, every lyric is forced out with an uncompromising, powerful sense of belief. This is a wonderful, rough edged, honest, beast of a record that calls you to play it again and again.