THE LIKES OF US

Between 1923 and 1947, the "Big Four" was the name used to describe the four largest railway companies in the UK, following the "Grouping" (of a myriad of pre-existing smaller companies). In respect of BBT's output to date, the corresponding Big Four are unquestionably The Difference Machine, the Underfall Yard, and English Electric Parts I and II - an absolutely classic sequence of albums that, collectively and unequivocally, propelled the band to my personal top table.

Thereafter, I somewhat fell out of love with the band, as it derailed itself with music favouring the overtly pastoral - in truth, I didn't like anything on Folklore, only the title track from Grimspound saved it from a similar wipe-out, and The Second Brightest Star was irrelevant.

Happily, the band heaved itself back on the straight and narrow with the quite excellent Grand Tour - (I was fortunate enough to see them on their associated promotional tour, shortly before the wretched pandemic struck, and they were on top form) - and the second half of Common Ground. However, Welcome to the Planet (apart from Lanterna and Capitoline Venus) saw the band shunting up yet another unwelcome sidings, as far as I was concerned. I was therefore intrigued to see which direction the band would now be taking, given the tragedy with which we are, sadly, all too familiar.

Well, with some minor reservations - and one major one - I thoroughly enjoyed The Likes of Us. Alberto Bravin has a warm voice with good range, and the band clearly pulled out all the stops in David's memory, with Nick D'Virgilio's contribution, in particular, being quite stunning throughout. As to my reservations, I was not much taken with either Oblivion or Skates On - neither is my cup of tea. But my biggest grievance surrounds Beneath the Masts. Quite what on Earth is going on mid-way through this? Having developed a perfectly beautiful and catchy melody which is just crying out to be cushioned to a tranquil resting place, the band elects, instead, to introduce a few minutes of barbaric incongruity that totally destroys the feel of the piece, and ruins the entire effect. Why? What is the point of this? BBT has never been guilty of this type of aural outrage before; and we've already had enough similarly cacophonous tripe from other bands to last a lifetime - think Glass Hammer, (worst of) Spock's Beard, Unitopia, Southern Empire....and there are plenty more examples. I really like BBT and don't want or need them to fall into the same ugly trap as the aforementioned bunch. If, however, the wholly unwelcome interlude within Beneath the Masts in any way signals the band's future destination, our relationship might inevitably end up hitting the proverbial buffers. I very much hope not.

Four stars.