By B. J. Carter
Coastal Journal Staff

Only two schools of thought really exist on Hard Fi's Once Upon A Time in the West cover: It's laziness disguised as pretension, or it's a cheap PR ploy with the aim of selling more copies of their sophomore album. Either way, no one cares to believe that these boys might really mean it, that maybe they'd like to move more copies of West on their own terms.

As a young band, I guess they just haven't earned the benefit of the doubt.  Fact is, Hard Fi's always been a class conscious act.  Songs like “Cash Machine,” “Living for the Weekend,” and “Move On Now” deftly mined middle-class twentysomething anxieties about college debt, working a nine to five, and getting pregnant in Tony Blair's England, all to the sound of big, doe-eyed hooks and a crass mix of R&B, disco, and punk rock n' roll.

Once Upon a Time in the West is the sound of the band officially announcing their intent to be The Clash for the MySpace generation, and what better way to do that than album opener “Suburban Knights?”  It's impossible not to sing along to it in the car, or at least pump a fist to it, filled to the brim with shameless aggrandizing like “They say we are at war/But I ain't got time for that 'cos/Those bills keep dropping through my door!”  Or you can just holler with the “whoas” and “ahs” that serve as backing vocals. 

Normally this brand of posturing comes across like kids playing dress-up in the mirror.  After all, there's a big difference between wanting to raise the roof and actually doing it.

The great thing about Hard Fi is that they don't seem to know the difference.  They get their point across through sheer force of will, executing leap from genre to genre with only intermediate skill but unbridled enthusiasm nonetheless.  Few bands barely able to play their instruments try to cover so much ground, hence the band's everyman appeal.  Hard Fi retain the rough around-the-edges production of their debut on West, perfectly content to let incompatible instrumentation like church bells, strings, and fuzzed out basses chafe, as they do on “Can't Get Along,” a track second only to “Suburban Knights” on the album.  This is music that sounds equally good coming out of tiny laptop speakers as it does an optimum sound system.  It captures and then explodes the iPod Moment, where no one has patience for anything but eclecticism and scratchy, lo-fi sounds.  

Of the eclecticism, there's a host of unlikely musical cohorts that act as touchstones:  “I Close My Eyes” is unmistakably The Verve's “Rolling People” in high contrast, grainy black and white.  Check the Bee Gee's in the chorus of “I Shall Overcome,” Joe Strummer on “Television,” and Diana Ross on “Can't Get Along.”  The game of “spot the influence” is rarely as rewarding as it is here, thanks in large part to frontman Richard Archer's performance.

Let's talk about Archer.  Like his band's sonic palette, he's like a compendium of rock icons.  A young Elvis Presley's hair style, the aforementioned Strummer's fashion sense (you have to love rolled jeans!), and a compulsive twitch like Jarvis Cocker.  What he lacks in vocal range, especially live, he makes up for in charisma and evocative range.  He goes from grumbling blue collar drone dreaming of escape on “I Close My Eyes” to grieving son on “Help Me Please” to self-destructive, hopeless romantic on “Can't Get Along” to political ringleader on “We Need Love.”  And he sells it all convincingly.

With Once Upon a Time in the West Hard Fi’s done a brave thing:  Rather than even bother with a remake of “Hard to Beat,” they've made their own What's the Story, Morning Glory?, trading in eager-to-please guitars for a more soulful, mid tempo canvas that allows them to inhabit their grand universe more fully and on their own terms, no less. 

Maybe the decaffeinated reaction to the album cover, that most superficial contrivance, says more about us than them.