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It’s ironic that the very ‘Over The Counter Culture’ against which The Ordinary Boys rallied with their 2004 debut has ended up becoming their golden sanctity just as time was about to devour them for good. Who’s more stupid – them for accepting it or us for giving it?
It leaves Preston and his gang in a debasing position. It was their anti-consumer, anti-mass media provocations that got people raising eye-brows in music circles originally, but after failing to live up to their manifesto’s promise of individuality and empowerment for a disaffected nation, the radio stations, the record labels, and even the fans started to look elsewhere for inspiration.
No one’s having a poke at Preston for embracing the Celebrity Big Brother chalice – it certainly looked like he had a lot of fun doing it. But whether good or bad a decision, the awkward position it leaves his band in is undeniable. They’re being given another chance, sure, but this new interest – although grand for the moment – is borne out of a superficial staple of modern society, something which the band previously used to gain love by professing to loath.
So as Preston stands before a screaming crowd, insecurely asking who was a fan ‘before’ the unmentioned reality extravaganza happened, we see a man who knows all too well that this victory lap could quite easily end as soon as the next ten housemates walk through Big Brother’s front door.
Thankfully, even with all this uncertainty in mind, The Ordinary Boys still know how to put on a good show. With two albums under their belt, each consisting of roughly fifty percent solid hits and fifty percent forgettable filler, the logical scientific breakdown of an hour-long set distils the best of both into a consistently pleasurable evening’s entertainment.
From debut single ‘Maybe Someday’ to the skankathon ‘Boys Will Be Boys’ the atmosphere is bouncy, bouncy, bouncy… fun, fun, fun, fun. But due to the pay off between the band’s start-up ethics and the media’s selectively feeding hand, nothing deeper underscores the hijinks, so even during the unifying chants of ‘Talk, Talk, Talk’, the simplistic joy of the moment gives way to a knowledge that every utterance from the stage is contextually meaningless and ultimately forgettable.
Some of the album toss does slip through the net, but people seem to be pleased with the simple fact they’re in the same room as someone off the telly.
Still, for all the cynicism, the crowd file out the venue with abundant smiles, which is perhaps the most important signifier of this show’s success. Love for Preston may not last, so now’s the time for the boys to get back in the studio and prove once and for all that they’re not so ordinary. Next time they’re about to lose the game, Davina won’t be coming to get them.
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article by: Alex Hoban
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| published: 22/03/2006 14:44 |
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