“Now for a moment of light entertainment”, a very English voice declares at the beginning of ‘Big in the Suburbs’, the title track of Southampton indie-rock quintet Welly’s much-awaited debut LP. The song bursts into high-tempo, highly danceable instrumentation initiated by the steady groove of the song’s foundational bassline before an upbeat and infectious guitar riff introduces vitality and momentum. “Welcome to the Great British zoo”, singer Elliot Hall proclaims, setting the tone for the album as a whole by effectively announcing its scathingly satirical examination of family, society, and modernity.
From the first track alone, it becomes clear that Welly are bringing the fun back to post-punk, combining sharply sarcastic lyricism with frenetic instrumentation to produce an effect that hasn’t been seen since the Britpop of mid-1990s Pulp. Once ‘Big in the Suburbs’ has climaxed with the sound of a cowbell, ‘Home For The Weekend’ continues the suburban theme by narrating its prodigal son tale, and also mirrors its predecessor in sustaining the album’s vivacity.
‘Knock And Run’ is backed by a biting bassline, indie-electronica synths and baggy-trousers-style tambourine, with lyrics that generate images of young life in the noughties through references to “rural reservoir dogs in their matching Wilson socks”, JD Sports and its titular prank. The song is imbued with mischief and saturated with the shallowness of young love, once again proving the band’s ability to combine enjoyment with razor-sharp scrutiny.
As the album’s most exhilarating, engaging and compelling example of Welly’s storytelling powers, ‘Deere John’ tells the tale of a suburban family man who commits suicide-by-lawnmower. This is also where the band’s humour becomes most ostensible, with the song employing an amusing form of foreshadowing through the repeated refrain of “he mows the lawn, he mows the lawn, he mows the lawn, he mows the lawn” which ultimately, and probably purposefully, veers towards the absurd. Ending with the instruction to “go inside and face your wife”, even the song’s instrumentation winds down like a lawnmower would: it’s the tiny details like this which make Big in the Suburbs so engaging.
‘Soak up the Culture’ is filled with tongue-twisters and incisive imitations of upper-class young Brits abroad, beginning with the typical “English girls on their gap year” before moving onto inexperienced “British boys” and ending with a highly contemptuous depiction of a “suburban child, so meek and mild”. At this point, it becomes clear that nobody is safe from Welly’s unreserved, uninhibited derision, and this continues into ‘Shopping’, which selects a “Primani Armani” army as its target.
‘Shopping’ was the album’s first single, helping Welly to burst onto the scene by combining the post-punk instrumentation of Sports Team with the cynicism of “Weird Al” Yankovic to great effect. On Big in the Suburbs it is followed by ‘Cul-de-Sac’, another single which portrays the thrills and shortcomings of modern relationships through inventive metaphors of “Commitment, that’s blu-tac” and WKD that “ain’t fizzy”.
Up to this point, Big in the Suburbs has barely allowed its listeners a moment of respite: this comes in the form of ‘Pampas Grass’, which begins more subtly than previous tracks before bursting into action mid-way through. Although Hall’s voice, albeit purposefully and to great effect, can become grating without the backing of invigorating instrumentation, once the song reaches its third minute it is easy to see that it provides the perfect centrepiece for a debut album that continues to thrill and amaze. ‘Pampas Grass’ reveals a more tender side to the Southampton band: the lyric “breakfast in the garden, Elizabeth Arden, the wilting of their hearts” is a truly stunning line of modern poetry, no matter how tongue-in-cheek its delivery was intended to be.
The album’s final single, ‘The Roundabout Racehorse’, centres around a character who has outgrown their hometown, ending with a chant of “I can’t go home tonight” that will undoubtedly instigate a memorable moment live. ‘Under Milk Wood’, an interlude in the form of a poem set to the sound of a calm and reserved guitar, momentarily disrupts the band’s flow. This does seem like an inessential buffer as the album reaches its final four tracks, but the pace is picked up again by the end of ‘Family Photos’.
‘Country Cousins’ investigates the difficult dynamics of mixing rural and urban, while ‘It’s Not Like This In France’ conjures idealised visions of abroad in contrast to Britain, calling back to the allusions to “Paris if Paris was made of concrete” in ‘Shopping’. ‘Life Is A Motorway’ is a surprisingly touching way to end a relatively fast-paced, scathing album, and sees Welly taking yet another cliché, but this time enveloping themselves in it to present an endearing portrayal of friendship.
While it could be easy to question whether Welly ever verge on seriousness, their fun-filled debut record demonstrates a level of sincerity through the band’s piercing social commentary that never detracts from its enjoyability. In fact, Welly’s consistent construction of characters allows Elliot Hall to personify the very perspectives the band persecute, and this ultimately adds to the entertainment value. Take any of these fourteen songs, and when listening you can picture Hall as frontman singing with the grin, wink and nod of impersonation. Despite its length, Big in the Suburbs never becomes a slog: this is certainly one of the most successfully executed debuts of the decade so far.
