Papernut Cambridge: Outstairs Instairs
Gare Du Nord Records
Echoes of glam rock, punk, lounge, and any number of other genres surface on this endearing collection of weird'n'whimsical songcraft by Papernut Cambridge, the first ‘full' album release from this London/Kent-based outfit since 2016's Love The Things Your Lover Loves. How eccentric is the band? In recent times, leader Ian Button (one-time guitarist with Death In Vegas and Thrashing Doves) and his fellow crew members issued a seventy-seven-minute ‘single' as well as an instrumental library album called Mellotron Phase: Vol 1. The hooks-packed Outstairs Instairs possesses no small amount of charm; how could it be otherwise when its title comes from a Buckminster Fuller-ian notion that a more astronomically correct way of characterizing up-or-down stair movements would be to describe it as “outwards from the centre of the earth or inwards towards it.”
A little bit of Marc Bolan emerges in Button's vocals, and on “Not Even Steven” he sings with the sneer and snarl of an aging punk. Often doubled up, his voice is admittedly something of an acquired taste, but with repeated listenings one warms to it; no one could possibly say his singing lacks personality, no small thing in this auto-tuned age. With Button joined by band regulars Roberts Rotifer (guitar), Robert Halcrow (bass), Emma Winston (piano), Ralegh Long (organ), Jack Hayter (viola), and Darren Hayman (drums), the album's sound is full, and guests such as Malcolm Doherty (recorders), Jon Clayton (cello), and Stabbs MacKenzie (saxophone) are on hand to make it even richer.
With its jaunty groove and Doherty's recorders paving the way, “Buckminster Fullerene,” its title referring to a carbon molecule whose structure resembles Fuller's geodesic dome design, establishes the album's trippy vibe with a sunshiny riff on ‘60s pop-psychedelia. Though it's hardly a rip-off of the Orbison classic, “Crying” nevertheless evokes the tune during its ever-intensifying chorus, and with MacKenzie's tenor bleating for all it's worth the tune kicks up some serious dust. Boogie-woogie aficionados will definitely cotton to “House of Pink Icing,” especially when Terry Miles' rollicking piano's all over it, whereas Dylan fans will do much the same when the rousing closer “New Forever” appears.
As light-hearted as much of the material is, there's a serious side at work, too, in part attributable to the 2016 passing of Button's father (his life lessons fondly catalogued in “No Pressure”). Among the more sober tunes are the samba-tinged “Tulips in a Top Hat” and the blues-ballad “How to Love Someone,” which, with piano playing redolent of Hunky Dory's “Life On Mars” (it's hard not to hear “It's a godawful small affair” when that first chord hits), disarms with open-hearted admissions of self-doubt and insecurity.
Pretty much every song's got a melody that sticks. It's easy to picture well-lubricated pub crawlers crooning the chorus to the Beatles-esque “Angelo Aggy” (“We'll find a home for Aggy / We'll give Aggy a home”), a song about “the best dog down in Battersea,” and you'd be forgiven for thinking of John Lennon during the delicate swoon of “Kalinda.” Papernut Cambridge's hard to pin down (not that it has to be), but one might think of it as some modern-day amalgam of T. Rex, Roxy Music, and The Kinks (with maybe a smattering of Pulp and Beatles mixed in) though even that only begins to hint at it. Whatever your designation, there's no denying Button's got a way with a hook, which makes Outstairs Instairs sound better with every listen.August 2018