The View - Bread and Circuses, a review

I was never particularly a fan of the View upon their breakthrough. If anything, I found 'Same Jeans' irritating, and this discouraged me from exploring them further. However, the general consensus is that their follow-up album was a dismal effort, and therefore the stage is clear to redeem themselves. And they've certainly done that.

Opener 'Grace' is so ripe for British pub audiences that it could very easily find itself on a Jeremy Clarkson-endorsed drivetime compilation, being so bold and singalong as it is, and there's no harm in that (however uncool it may be deemed in comparison to Thom Yorke crying over trees, perhaps). 'Underneath The Lights' continues this trend of not-exactly-experimental-but-still-a-decent-tune-so-who-cares? guitar bashing but it's a shade short of being memorable. The same goes for 'Tragic Magic', a sure candidate for Most Generic Indie Rock Song of the Year.

So there's a welcome change of scenery in 'Girl', a honky tonk precursory tale about a heartbreaker that's as catchy as it is kitsch - even complete with stripped bare bridge. The tune to 'Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word' seems to be borrowed a little in 'Life', a track begging unashamedly to be their live performances' finale with Kyle Falconer in full throat mode; strings adding to the grandeur. 'Friend' is so reminiscent of the Favourite Worst Nightmare-era Arctic Monkeys with their take on the colloquial cautionary tales set over Motown-tinged drums and chord progressions.


'Beautiful' isn't particularly noteworthy and whilst it continues things nicely it's a little pointless. 'Blondie' is suitable single material, with its screeching guitar hooks and quirky drumbeat emphasised with a series of choral sequences pitched at the masses perfectly. The first single from the record was 'Sunday', another hook-laden track with effortless cool that's by this stage worrying in its effectiveness.

'Walls' is packed with ambitious guitar solos and theatrical "oh"s that orchestrally build to one of the most unique listening experiences the record has to offer. Self-deprecation and pouting is lavished upon us in 'Happy', an amusing antithesis to Britney Spear's 'Born to Make You Happy' (in, er, "I wasn't born to make you happy"). There's a brief distraction from a preacher at the beginning of 'Best Lasts Forever' that is a little bizarre, but it soon returns back to familiar territory. The album concludes with 'Witches', a short burst that's situated somewhere between the Family Guy 'Shipoopi' song with its honky tonk rhythm and Alex Turner with its bizarre lyricism, and it's all just a little bit too much.



There's something very meat and potatoes about Bread and Circuses to paraphrase some additional collocation - there are sure to be critics against this approach: it's not particularly imaginative and there comes a point where it'll be forgotten. But for the time being, it's a fine rock record full with nice tunes and universal appeal, and I'm happy with that.

Rating: 7.5/10
Highlights: Life, Blondie, Grace, Walls, Sunday
Avoid: Witches, Tragic Magic