Ben Marwood – This is Not What You Had Planned Review
Yes, Ben Marwood is yet another British singer-songwriter; yes, Ben Marwood is yet another pretty boy who can play guitar; and yes, Ben Marwood does sell his records in HMV (call me an indie snob, I do not care). All of this perceived negativity, however, is mere prejudice and doesn’t even hold up to the most brief of listens: even though the voices of his influences can be heard, he intermingles their ideas with those of his own to form a very cohesive individual voice. Question Marks opens with a marvellous plucked guitar sequence which underpins the song to its end, and a wonderful progression it is: the song is packed with what I can only see as playful snipes at Sam Duckworth of Get Cape fame – it seems that Ben isn’t too keen on his contemporary’s socioeconomic commentary, as demonstrated by the lyrics ‘I will not preach revolution, ’cause I’m not as dumb as to think that I have the solution‘, as well as his insistence upon telling us how ‘Get Cape. Wear Cape. stole [his] sound‘. Five Little Secrets is something altogether more dark: a more sombre but still endearing acoustic guitar line forms the non-vocal backbone of the song; whilst the raspy, almost aggressive vocals of Ben keep the song chugging along with a renewed momentum with each exhalation. I Know What I Did Last Summer carries on this vocal theme: it’s a piano-introduced denouncement of the poor little rich girl as venomous as any that I’ve ever heard before: not even the tra-la-la-ing can detract from the vehemence of his voice in the lines ‘every time you start your flowery speech, I expect to hear Death Cab start three feet behind me‘ and ‘it feels like you’re living The fucking OC’. Even in the midst of this, a certain frailty which could only be described as ‘cute’ is exposed; his ascension into the higher pitches accentuates the greatest asset of his music: honesty.
Track four, Heathens, sees more venom being spat: seemingly this time over transient Christians and faith merely to spite others. Once again, the Marwood’s gritty voice over simple, bright acoustic guitar dichotomy is on display in the most apparent example of its implementation yet. This fury in Ben’s voice spills over into Claire: a song clearly of a tale of a jilted liar, and as such, a wonderful place for the proliferation of his growl. In spite of his previous admonishment of the we-can-fix-the-world attitudes of the likes of Duckworth, Fake It sees demonstration of anger over the lack of difference perceived by some between him and the boy and girl bands so prolific on the television. This is righteous anger: this is the good kind of hypocrisy. Like it or Not finishes the album on a high note: the bitterness inherent in his voice seems to be gone, and the major key of the music is not deceptive as it had been previously.
To conclude: it’s £4.99 from HMV. It’s amazing. Buy it.