So here we have Springtime Carnivore – aka Greta Morgan for those who know that reputation is all in the name – and her self-titled album. Without further ado, what words of wisdom can be imparted on the merits of her album?
Quite a few actually but we shall be brief here. Whilst many of the compact lo-fi practitioners of power pop songs, even the female ones, rarely remember that the song is everything, Springtime Carnivore reach back in time to when song writing was an action separated from the performers by the quality control mechanism of the music publisher and, almost casually, throw us a set of songs that we might, whether blessed with vocal talent or not, all want to sing.
Crumble therefore beneath the pop magnificence of “Name On A Matchbook”. The vocals soar above the sonic, Spector style, fog and you even get a whistling motif just to make sure that your ears prick right to attention. That song is not just an isolated incident either and “Sun Went Black” then stakes its place on the beach with a gratuitous display of quirky grunginess. Even when the influences change and hints of eighties electro creep in – try “Two Scars” or “Last One To Know” as examples – the strength of the song writing shines through. Ms Morgan is never less than an interesting, and simultaneously commercial, lyricist and she knows exactly how to sing her own songs.
The merits of “Springtime Carnivore” are therefore clear and I hope that one day her musical magic will find itself on one of those vinyl LP things (and, duly, it is so - God). The past, as we all now know, is the new future and that future now has a worthy soundtrack.