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The Format - Dog Problems We must confess that we had no idea who The Format were a week ago, but it didn’t take long for them to move in and makes themselves comfortable in whatever part of the brain it is that stores music. Sam Means, Nate Ruess (who founded the band in 2002), Mike Schey, Marko Buzzard, and Don Raymond are the band members who create their striking sound, and they hail from Peoria, Arizona. Inexplicably, their record label has dropped them twice, but Atlantic really should be kicking themselves (and eachother) now, because Dog Problems is a great album whichever way you listen to it.
The opening track on Dog Problems, Matches, starts pretty subtly, although after a couple of bars you realise that this tinny piano line sounds very much like a circus theme, a sensation that is confirmed when the drumroll and cymbals join the parade. Straight away, you’re in a dreamy world, and one that isn’t a million miles away from the one occupied by Mercury Rev. And in relatively close proximity to some Blind Melon material too.
And fascinating as this is, an album full of travelling show tunes might get a bit tiresome. Thankfully, The Format really come into their own when they blend their unusual arrangements with brilliant pop, and there are numerous songs on the album that achieve this superbly. Track two; I’m Actual, hints at this skill in a few fantastic moments, although it doesn’t quite realise it overall.
Time Bomb is a different story though, and benefits from a much more focused tempo and arrangement. “Tick- tock, you’re not a clock, you’re a time bomb baby, a time bomb baby” goes the sublime chorus, and it’s at this point where you know you’ve stumbled upon something truly precious.
Things get even better for She Doesn’t Get It, the intro of which is apparently based on Springsteen’s Growing Up. Not that it sounds all that similar though, and it soon pursues its own path with determination. The jangly guitars are just perfect here, and the sound is warm, sweet and comforting in a way that only a tight jangly guitar riff can achieve. This is also the moment where you fully realise the power of Nate Ruess’ voice. It’s relatively high-pitched, but he can really belt it out when the song requires it, at which point it melds beautifully with the higher registers being played by the crisp electric guitars.
Oceans is another highlight, and not least because the supremely catchy chorus is built on a really interesting premise: “Now I hope that you’re happy, I hear you’re somewhere in the sand. And I wish I was an ocean baby, maybe then I’d get to see you again”. Without the magnificent melody this is of course out of context, but their lyrics are full of these unusual angles and approaches, and it ensures that The Format are unforgettable.
Like all great music, The Format create a sound that is instantly recognisable and somehow familiar, but through their lyrics and their ingenious arrangements, their songs nearly always end up in a place you didn’t expect. And as such, they’ve created a format that’s all their own.
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