- When a band changes their name the release that follows said decision is usually used as a way to re-establish just they're about. In a similar vein, debut albums are a definitive statement about a group. When you have both together it puts a huge amount of emphasis on that artistic moment. It begins to look like the odds are against those who embark on such a rare quest. It’s at this pressure point that we find Leisure Centre.
Formerly known as The Do Yo Thangs, the troop from Melbourne have shone a little neosoul light before now. They bring a sound that can soothe your weary soul or coax your limbs into being a bit more graceful. Leading up to the release of Mind Full, advance singles nodded towards a progression in sound and a broadening of their horizons. From this previewed vantage point it seemed like -post-name change and debut album- Leisure Centre would be coming out and driving ambitiously for the boundary.
Sticky melodies and earnest lyrics dance over delicious grooves, promising a more lively set of tracks. Yet, more often, things slow down to a gentle sway and pillowy compositions consume you, which has some appeal. Finally you'll realise that drawn out, spattered percussion, smeared with honeyed harmonies, too many dreamscapes and slow jams mean that Mind Full serves its purpose but will have a short shelf life. It digs its heels into the mud and refuses to budge, stuck in a comfort zone with no escape.
The record opens up with a slow wonky beat and Leisure Centre taking full advantage of their sizeable band numbers with dual female and male vocals taking the lead while the backing harmonies build this up into a refined version of a sound that was well established on their first release. It's smooth sailing for a good majority of this first cab off the rank and the overwhelming shimmer that comes into play with a minute left to go had me hoping for some exploration out of a well-traversed yard. It swells and then has its poor legs booted out from under it like a cruel trick played on baby giraffe, learning to walk. Creating huge moments like this only to have the carpet pulled out from under, subsiding into standard bobbing along, is something that continually haunts these songs. Don’t Let Go quickly turns into a moody demand with buzzing synth line. It adds another chapter into Leisure Centre utilising fluxes between minimal sections and bursting with harmonies and sounds. Again, with a minute remaining in this track, a wailing solo screeches through and takes control; and again before it gushes over its full peak, it’s slapped on the head like musical whack-a-mole.
It’s not all doom and gloom though. The three track run that follows with Those Days, Something Better, and Sucka are prime exposes in how this crew can create engaging and bubbly songs. Not surprisingly, two of these three were lead singles and once their time passes, we’re back to the wash, rinse and repeat. Those Days boils up a healthy serving of tension as playful percussion thumps through and the vocal interplay of a simple refrain leads into a spoken word delivery of nostalgic memories. Flipping this into reverse in the following verse is a good contrast as it slides into the chorus and the rest of the band joins in, the pace picking up significantly. Something Better pulls deeply from the dreamy aesthetic that is severely underutilised here. The J Dilla-esque beat equipped with a moving and modulated bass line while the simple male vocals yearn for an improvement in the current space. Contrasting these dreamy verses against tense choruses works as a foil that improves both segments greatly. Sucka is this album's only truly lively number. A boppy love song that is as tight as anything George Benson put out, it stands alone as the best on offer. The free-wheeling vocals passages that ad lib between lines inject a personality of pure fun and I wish there were more glimpses like this.
This album is an experiment in mood, lulling you into its loving stupor. However, like marshmallows left over a fire for too long, what begins as a suave offering of lush melodies, simple percussion and a five-pronged vocal styling, burns through any excitement you might have, quite quickly, leaving caremalised nastiness. After that you lose yourself in the overly sticky compositions like some weird kind of honey-trap. There are only moments and specific songs on here which show what the band can do, if they deviate from their norm. Their name rings true: if you’re looking for something to relax too and not focus on, this will be your Leisure Centre.
- Matthew Lynch.