Brighton Dome, 31st May

You can just imagine the record executives meeting: “Right guys, anyone heard of The Feeling? They are selling a stack of records by taking 1970’s pop/rock and re-hashing it for today. So get out there and find a band that does the same thing for the 1980s.” Royworld are that band.

Now perhaps that’s a smidgeon over-cynical of me, but you can’t help cry foul when a band comes along that sounds like they have been locked in a room with Now That’s What I Call Music, volumes 3–12, and told not to come out until they have distilled it into a platinum-selling album.

There is nothing wrong with the musicianship of the band; they play perfectly well, they sound fine, they seem pleasant. They also write piano-led pop songs that are hugely catchy and familiar sounding. For example, current single ‘Dust’ is effectively ‘Owner of a Lonely Heart’ by Yes. It’s cleverly done and has an even better hook than its predecessor. At least two other songs are actually so close to Kate Bush songs as to provoke an uneasy sense of disorientating deja vu (“deja entendu”?) – although in fairness the reference to “rubber band boy” and a Hounds of Love spoof chant in the lyrics to opening track ‘Elasticity’ suggests that they are happy to acknowledge the influences. ‘Brakes’ is Keane-esque but with huge overdubbed anthemic vocals. There is also more than a splash of Talking Heads about it all.

At one point singer Rod Futrille affably rebuffs a shout of “Parachutes” from someone in the crowd. And frankly, that’s about as exciting as it gets. Those who peeled themselves away from the Dome bar long enough to check Royworld out seemed to find them acceptable enough and they have already skirted around the lower echelons of the charts with the recent release of ‘Dust’. They also have enough other MOR chart-friendly tunes in the bag to continue selling records. For those who aren’t old enough to have heard the songs that inspired this band, this is an easy way to catch up while only having to listen to one album instead of fifty. It’s just that – and especially placed next to Guillemots’ more ramshackle but likeably free-spirited vibe – it all feels so soulless.

Maybe in the end that’s what pop music has become, but personally I’m still holding out for more.

Words by Joe Owen
Photos by Sam Hiscox