Calling your first album Magpie is a bit risky - it implies that all you've done is lifted bits from other people's styles. And indeed, Stephen Fretwell's debut contains echoes of lots of other singer-songwriters, with Bob Dylan, Nick Drake and Chris Martin being merely the most obvious suspects. The formula is as familiar as ever: one moody young man (from Scunthorpe in this case), one guitar and a collection of heartfelt compositions about love, loss and the pain of not having a girlfriend. Some of the songs soar gracefully, others sink into the kind of self-pitying sludge that inspired Alan McGee to call Coldplay 'music for bedwetters'. Fretwell has a pleasant voice and he may well yet develop into a serious talent. But in a genre that's already dominated by the likes of Damien Rice and David Gray, this album doesn't do enough to stand out from the competition.
search for anything!
e.g. Barbie
or maybe 'Ashoka'
Dune: Part Two
Paul Mescal
search for anything!