It’s not often that a debut album makes an appearance some forty years after the dust has settled on a band’s musical ambitions and been turned into yet another student residence. Then again, Mackenzies are from Scotland and it is undeniable that this particular country has been funked many times over the last few decades so perhaps “A Dog’s Breakfast” will turn out to be a survival album worth barking about.
It is therefore surprising – or perhaps not – to remark that Mackenzies sound exactly like a Glasgow band of four decades ago with their finger on the pulse would have sounded like. Their sound is duly all sharp edged guitars, oblique lyrics, uneven rhythms and arty flourishes and, although the dancefloors of those halcyon days would surely have been driven straight to terpsichorean nirvana by Mackenzies’ spirited exorcism of funk and dub ghosts, the listener of today might well view them as a band established on the journey to the hallowed land of the avant-garde.
Yet, despite the overfamiliarity of the bassline from “Blow By Blow” (where have I heard that before?), there is much to enjoy on this album and it is very nearly a compliment to state that Mackenzies just don’t sound a like a band of today. There is indeed life in these old dogs yet.