For a time in the early 2000s, British guitar rock experienced a flood of activity that buoyed the nation’s music press into believing that for the first time in ages they didn’t actually need the Gallagher brothers to sell magazines. In this environment, the Coral’s slapdash retread of 60s freakbeat and organ-driven psych rock garnered an enthusiastic reception from critics and festival-goers alike, with sloppy but catchy singles like “Dreaming of You” and “In the Morning” bottling just enough youthful exuberance from the six Liverpudlians to cover up their limited musicianship. But while more interesting bands from the period have fallen by the wayside over the years, the Coral trundle on, releasing dulled retreads of the same record every couple of years that chart reasonably well but show little motivation on the band's part to break out of their narrow, retro frame of reference.
Surprisingly, when Bill Ryder-Jones became the first member to exit the group in 2008, the guitarist made an about turn from their sound, scoring a couple of low budget short films before cutting an accomplished solo debut. Pitched as a musical adaptation of Italian writer Italo Calvino’s 1979 novel If on a Winters Night a Traveler, 2011's If... was predominantly an instrumental effort, incorporating immense string sections courtesy of the Liverpool Philharmonic orchestra and complimented with Jon Brion-like sonic flourishes. On centerpiece "Enlace", there was even a sizzling prog rock workout. As it turned out, the man credited as being key to sculpting the Coral’s slack orchestrations actually had ample creativity when left to his own devices.
Stripping away much of what made his previous record a gripping listen, Ryder-Jones takes a quieter approach on follow-up A Bad Wind Blows in My Heart, a set of pensive singer-songwriter ballads and hushed pop songs in the vein of Alex Turner’s Submarine soundtrack, an EP on which Ryder-Jones played guitar. Taking his lead from director Richard Ayoade’s charming depiction of awkward adolescent angst, Turner’s wistful melodies and vibrant tales of a burgeoning teen romance were a dead-on accompaniment to the film’s quirky presentation. But despite recording in his boyhood bedroom and recruiting Submarine producer, Simian Mobile Disco's James Ford, to polish the set, Ryder-Jones' autobiographical anecdotes fail to bottle the same sentiment. His narratives wilt beneath tired imagery and stock similes like “There was something in the air that night,” (“Hanging Song”) and “It’s not over ‘til I say it’s over” (“Wild Swans”). If you think A Bad Wind Blows in My Heart is a clumsy title, be prepared to sit through two whole tracks of the lyric being repeated over and over again.
What’s most disappointing about the album is how Ryder-Jones has almost completely abandoned taking any sonic risks. His vocal is dulled and rasping throughout, and the songs never blossom like those on If..., seemingly hamstrung by his limited range. It’s not an entire bust though. The acoustic plucks and clean melody of “By Morning I” recall early Belle and Sebastian, while the tender ode to childhood friendship “Anthony & Owen” recalls If...’s more sweeping arrangements, playing to Ryder-Jones’s strengths, which are not insignificant, if sadly underused here.
