Riding The Low: "Acres of Yvonne"

Musical Thespians is an odd game to play, often involving chairs, spare arses, and a lot more tape-stop than necessary. Remember the Bacon Brothers feat. Kevin Bacon? Warpaint feat. Shannyn Sossoman? Minnie Driver’s Everything I’ve Got In My Pocket (2004)? Me neither.

Still, every now and then the tradition breaks step with the limelighters revealing more than just ten thumbs to the audience. Mini-series megastar John Simm once lent his reputable guitar skills to Magic Alex, named in honour of the Beatles’ dealer. The Young Ones (TV) once teamed up with the other Young One (Cliff Richard) to spark off an embarrassing charity trend. And now Paddy Considine injects some seriousness to the genre by co-founding Riding The Low, which he downplays as “a Guided By Voices tribute band who play our own songs.”

Considine—famed for his early DeNiro magnetism, a brutal award-winning short he directed called Dog Altogether, and the Bourne Ultimatum headshot—neatly transposes his celluloid discipline into Chris Baldwin’s juggernaut indie, creating a Brit-themed rockout with introvert roots as pure as a switched-on Shed Seven. Last year’s They Will Rob You Of Your Gifts pricked more than just the ears of the Paddy fans, requests flowering on their iTunes page for more from this Nottingham four-piece, and now the Low are back in the studio fleshing out the upcoming EP Riding The Low Are Part Time Rock Stars. Any leading man who self-depreciates that much has got to be worth a quick look-in.

So quick, look: “Acres of Yvonne” is the first new track to be polished for the Myspace player, and it hits like a gypsy knockout in the middle of a pumping beer tent. With summery hooks, killer riffs and more swagger than a gaggle of Gallaghers, the Low nail their effervescent “prepare-for-stripped-down-indie-rock” sound like a carpenter run amok. After a brief flash of Actor’s Conscience (“I get bad days / You get tsunamis”), Considine dives into his vocal pitch, a rocky wall of sound high enough behind him to cage Phil Spector for life. Its alpha-male energy is kept in trim by the longing in Paddy’s lyrics, making you believe he might calm down and morph into Morrissey any second. The difference is, though, where Morrissey is strictly pantomime, Considine—as anyone who’s seen Last Resort, My Summer of Love, Romeo Brass, or Three Tears For Jimmy Prophet will attest—goes for character. Riding The Low might be part-time rock stars, what with directors screaming for pickups, but they make for a solid combo; a spontaneous antidote to the spotless jangle of t-shirted twenty-something rock. Bring on that EP pronto, lads.