Melbourne’s The Tiger And Me make hopelessly earnest folk pop.
Their considerable charm lays the foundation for The Drifter’s Dawn, a varied, endearing, and at times enthralling set of 12 new songs.
The band is made up of three unique voices. The gruff growl of Tobias Selkirk, the seductive swoon of Jane Hendry and Ade Vincent, who opens The Drifter’s Dawn with the slightly off-kilter “Dance With The Devil”.
“I wanna dance with the devil again/ I wanna howl your name at the moon,” Vincent demands before the darkest of all minor chords.
It’s followed up by the radio-ready “Pantomime”, an upbeat piano pop tune that gives Hendry her turn at the mic. With “woah oh oh” backing harmonies and an uplifting chorus, it wouldn’t be out of place on a Feist record.
The Selkirk sung “Waltz #3” is a big anthemic ballad. It begins with an enormous chorus, before falling into piano accordion shuffle. Eventually, things build again for another barnstorming refrain: “Won’t you take to the floor with me/ I don’t believe you and I never need you.”
Further along, “Jack Middle of the Broken Heart” and “Made It To The Harbour” are disarmingly groovy.
“The Door Swung” lingers a little too long, despite a worthwhile finale. In fact, that’s probably true of the record as a whole – it could have been shorter and more focused.
Also, although the highest of highs (“Pantomime”, “Waltz #3”, “Richter”) are sublime, they’re a little too infrequent and the gaps are filled with well-written but ultimately workmanlike songs.
While The Drifter’s Dawn is a few songs short of propelling The Tiger and Me into the consciousness of the wider music buying public, it’s an accomplished and enjoyable record nonetheless.
