Kate Nash - Made of Bricks

The melodious melancholy of her first hit may have enlivened the charts, but Kate Nash’s debut album doesn’t quite surmount the hype built up around her.

Made of Bricks has been rushed out following the refreshing, massive success of ‘Foundations’. The track is a tantalizing pop creation; a distant hopefulness simmers in the twinkling piano while disillusionment is gradually nurtured with each awkwardly candid line. It sounds almost naively mature, charmingly mirroring its clumsy yet accomplished writer.

‘Foundations’ neatly encapsulates the album as a whole. The bits that sound sincere and fresh are here, but so is the cringe-worthy bluntness and misplaced social commentary. While the defiant ‘Mouthwash’ contains driving drums and fervent vocals, ‘Dickhead’ resembles the results a bored schoolgirl would achieve in a double GCSE Music lesson.

Lyrically, Nash is more Peggy Mitchell than Joni Mitchell. Simplicity and straightforward storytelling replace any deeper meaning in the music. For a generation that loves Big Brother but hasn’t heard of George Orwell, this is effective.

Why dress up feelings in metaphor and characters when stating “I like to play,” or even “I’m sitting with my friends getting drunk again,” will suffice? “I” dominates the record, yet it remains only superficially personal.

However, occasionally the Londoner makes peculiarly quaint observations on turbulent young love that both endear and enthral. ‘We Get On’, a Motown-influenced tale of unrequited devotion, carries heartbreakingly ironic satire such as “I don’t even have an opinion on that tramp you’re still seeing.” In these inspired snippets, Nash merges warped introversion with the pizzazz of a truly individual artist.

Numerous sloppy songs threaten to send Made of Bricks crumbling into mediocrity. Nevertheless, catchy hooks are frequent enough to satisfy the mainstream interest. More importantly, there are sufficient smatterings of brilliance to suggest Kate Nash is a real talent.