Stars In Your Eyes, Pop Idol, Ally McBeal, The Delays, Little House On The Prairie; they’re all things that at one time or another we’ve all had to confess some kind of embarrassing (if well hidden) weakness for. And like any alcoholic itching nervously for the nearest off-licence, we find ourselves awkwardly pacing the floor looking for the next regrettable fix. We’re not a proud bunch, even if we do manage to conceal it well enough under a smokescreen of insults and company sensitive cynicism. We’re not pathetic for actually liking any of the above. We’re pathetic for pretending not to. And Marshmallow leads us a similar merry dance; it’s light, it’s fluffy and it’s about as meaningful as a bag of candyfloss, but it’s also just as irresistible.
To all intents and purposes the candy-spawn of Alan Gregg – former bass player and songwriter for New Zealand acoustic heroes the Mutton Birds – Marshmallow pretty much recapitulates the holy trinity of jangly pop-whimsy: Teenage Fanclub (‘Anytime Soon’, ‘Scooter Girl’), the Boo Radleys (‘Snow’, ‘Casting Couch’) and the Magnetic Fields (‘The Ballad Of Wendi Deng’, ‘Born Again’, ‘Open Mic Night’). And if it wasn’t for the astonishingly cavalier approach to lyric writing (‘Scooter Girl, Scooter Girl/Did You Ever See Such A Cuter Girl/A Different Kind Of Commuter Girl/Born To Ride, She’s A Scooter Girl) it would be a fine old pop album indeed. But what’s charming and whimsical in the hands of some (‘Life In A Northern Town’ is as good an example as any) is simply unsophisticated in others’. Put it this way; it’s a naivety you’re likely to want to club with a mallet, as opposed to one you want to smother with motherly kisses.
If you were arrested (rather than mugged) by the fanciful, gilded harmonies of The Thrills or found yourself unable not to jump up and yell like a good ‘un to ‘It’s Been A Long Time Coming’ then Marshmallow might very well be a sugary little wet spot of delight for you this winter. Only keep it to yourself.