after hours against the grain

Released: 02 May 2011 Label: AOR Heaven

I’m always suspicious of a band that has to put something like <bandname>rocks in their website address. It’s like they’re trying to tell the public something they don’t know, or can’t otherwise infer from the music. In this case we have After Hours, a band steeped in the ancient history of AOR, skilful, yes, well put together, undoubtedly and thrilling. Well, no, not the last part.

For all the skill, effort and devotion the reformed band have put in, this album has no spark, no excitement, nothing to separate it from any one of a dozen other bands doing similar stuff over the last thirty years.

I’ve stated elsewhere that I quite like a bit of decent AOR, that it’s good for chilling on a warm summer night. I tried that recently with this album, and nodded off halfway through. Somehow, I don’t think that’s the effect the band were intending to have.

In style it’s akin to the super smooth sounds of REO Speedwagon or Foreigner, which if you like that is fine, but it is a bit bland. To be fair, that was probably the market that they were aimed at, back in the day, but it does sound a bit dated now, although the title track, with a curiously Heart-like influence does come to life a bit. After that it’s a descent into blandness, like an endless featureless soundscape that sucks at your awareness and intelligence, leaving nothing behind but a faint grey residue that was once a fan of rock music. Until the excellent acoustic version of Eleventh Hour stuck on at the end of the album almost succeeds in rescuing the whole album. This proves that there’s nothing wrong with the songs, so it must the arrangement and production that leaves the album flat. Two decent tracks and nine dull fillers are not going to set the world alight.

Sadly, blood sweat and tears, and solid musicianship are not enough to make a good rock album, it needs something with a bit of energy, a slice of life, some pounding beats, something to get the blood moving. This album lacks that burst of life.

by Alan Thomson