Every now and again you randomly stumble across a band that you’ve never heard before, or even heard anything about, and they instantly make you want to listen to them more. To the Death of Fun does exactly that for Cashier No 9, and when you do really listen to it, you start to see the odd one or two holes as well as the shining white rabbits.
The very first guitar flick on opening track Goldstar gives you a split second sense that what should follow is a bit on the cheesy listening side, but that sense fades. The organ melody synths work well with the the strumming acoustic rhythm, and while there’s a hint of easy country about the vocals, there’s also a touch of Fleet Foxes at their rare, early best. The harmonica solo alone is enough to make Goldstar a good introduction to Cashier No 9’s latest album.
To the Death of Fun is an oddity of a record and the second song, Makes You Feel Better, is a great example. It’s slow and semi-bluesy, with flights of more country sounds (although the band are from Belfast) but overall there’s the starting faint creep of psych in amongst the mix. Of this there is more as the album progresses, which works really well. The same applies to Lost at Sea with the addition of crashing drums and random maracas.
Good Human is like a bad western that slowly (too slowly) loses itself to a little faint plot-twist at the end. Like The Blair Witch Project rewritten by Kevin Costner.
There’s a big, majestic, souring quality to Flick of the Wrist, but the impatience for something interesting kicks in by this stage. That comes in, A Promise Wearing Thin that’s got enough wailing synth to make you keep the faith in Cashier No 9. Although the fah-lala childish sample at the end is annoying in the extreme.
However, Oh Pity is what the album was waiting for as it picks up the pace and the acidic love-in feel of ’67-’69 and ’89-’92. The Lighthouse Will Lead You Out starts with a backward step towards the earlier songs on the album, but makes a decent transition halfway through with a Stone Roses, Resurrection-style extender with a little early Kasabian thrown in for good measure.
Goodbye Friend is a return to blues, but again that’s pitched up with wilder psych tones, although ultimately it’s a mix of vague disappointment in the beginning / middle section, and genuine appreciation for the remaining couple of minutes.
6% is the dreamy ending of To The Death of Fun and not surprisingly it’s on the slow side. If you haven’t found anything you like by this stage, it’s not likely to be the lump hammer persuader, but if you have it’s a bit of a mesmerising end note to a semi-soporific album; although, the animal noise at the end will probably startle you into a wakeful fit of illucid fear that you’re being mauled by a horny bull seal.
Cashier No 9’s To the Death of Fun is a splitter. Not like Marmite and Guinness are supposed to be (although I’m easy with both, so up yours clever ad agencies), but like Transformers; your not sure you like it until Megan Fox bends over Bumblebee’s bonnet, but you can’t help but be impressed with some of the special effects and storyline gravitas. You’ll probably watch it again and notice the same things you like as well as the same things that you’re not too sure about.
Cashier No. 9, To The Death Of Fun album review: 3.9/5
