Even notwithstanding that name, there's always been something rather non-committal about Absentee. Maybe it's the fact that, time and again, they've delivered live performances that work out fine but take a fair old while getting there, or perhaps it's just that they've always carried themselves with such a shambolic air in spite of the fact that they've had moments on record where their sheer ambition shone through radiantly. Whatever particular millstone it is that's held them back in the past, though, at least debut album proper 'Schmotime' sees them taking giant steps towards giving that a bit of a welcome smash.
Not that this'll be to everyone's liking, mind you. Most notably, Dan Michaelson has one of the more marmite voices in modern indie, a lamenting yet scabrous countrified croon that appear to originate in one of the more unmentionable tracts of his gut; not only is it utterly identifiable, it lends itself ideally to the songs at hand here, although that won't make it more automatically palatable to the unbelieving. Moreover, the more prudish listener might take offence at the sizeable alcohol content of this album, although many of you may well be rather more sold on the notion of combining the excesses of early Arab Strap with the more melodic noughties outings of Moffat and Middleton, which is what Absentee have largely done here. Consider, for instance, the likes of 'You Try Sober', a lopsided and smackingly wry treatise on relationships carried on through a somewhat sozzled prism, or the wearily concentric poignancy of 'Hey Tramp' – these songs may be unglamorous, but they're rich in heart.
Curiously, though, Absentee are at their best when they're darkest-hearted. 'Something To Bang', a knowingly futile rejection of the more primal male urges, recalls Lou Reed at his most vibrant, while 'Duck Train' is a clattering howl of defiance from someone finding empowerment in what may be a combination of onanism, infidelity and liquor. Musically, meanwhile, they're prowling somewhat more illuminated alleys. You'd be hard pressed to find anything more celebratory Pavemental ('Crooked...' / 'Wowee Zowee'-era, mind) than the terrific 'There's A Body In A Car Somewhere', and the Rumble Strips' brass section keep turning up with horns that, as ever, have been cribbed from 'Searching For The Young Soul Rebels', with the whole effect feeling spectacularly vivacious. And can Absentee combine all these plus points at all? Hell, yes: 'We Should Never Have Children' is by some distance the finest thing they've ever done, honest, funny, taboo-tackling and piquant all at once, and the sort of songs that'd be a shoe-in for the Festive Fifty if it still existed. 'Schmotime', then, is a major turn-up for the books.
