Campaign for Real Gale

                                 All the requisite ingredients would seem to be
                                 in place for Hurricane#1 to be exactly the kind of
                                 'classic' rock band that they, and indeed Alan
                                 McGee, believe them to be. Street-smart and
                                 swaggering ex-pugillist Alex Lowe on
                                 honey-drenched, razor blade vocals; songwriting
                                 duties cared for by the perpetually shaded Andy
                                 Bell who, since disbanding Ride, has plunged
                                 headlong into guitar-noodle central; rock colossus
                                 elder statesman Will Pepper, formally of
                                 pseudo-Motor City madmen The Hypnotics, on
                                 bowel-quaking bass, and an undercurrent of funky
                                 flair injected by Gareth farmer on drums.

                                 But can this alleged dream team truly cut the
                                 mustard as this impressive theoretical evidence
                                 would suggest? Produced by Steve Harris, whose
                                 retro-sonic midwifery skills have already borne
                                 abundant fruits for Kula Shaker, Hurricane's
                                 eponymous debut teeters maddeningly between
                                 outright inspirational genius and sterile overblown
                                 adequacy. 

                                 Opening salvo and former chart-bothering single
                                 'Just Another Illusion' is little more than a studious
                                 throwback to the staid, wah-wah drenched,
                                 groove-approximations of baggy, and swings in a
                                 way that only white men can't. Not only does
                                 'Face In A Dream's diligent cohesion of
                                 over-familiar acquired stylings remain as rigid as an
                                 anaconda in an oboe, but like so many Hurricane
                                 songs, it mercilessly outstays its welcome. Huge
                                 swathes of riff repetition that serve no purpose
                                 other than to infuse the songs with an epic aspect
                                 that they neither warrant nor need proliferate
                                 throughout, sending impatient fingers scurrying for
                                 the 'skip' button. Though 'step Into My World'
                                 sees the band's buttocks partially unclenched, it
                                 remains firmly lashed to the status quo.

                                 Inoffensive, yet ultimately unchallenging, it
                                 provides ample proof that one Noel Gallagher is
                                 perfectly sufficient, thank you very much. 'Mother
                                 Superior' is little more than Alex Lowe's Stars In
                                 Their Eyes audition - "Tonight Matthew, I'm going
                                 to be Liam Gallagher's arse" - and despite an
                                 unexpected bliss-out in the middle, it's
                                 mind-numbingly predictable.

                                 With 'Let Go of the Dream', however, Hurricane
                                 finally deliver the goods. It's short, sharp, drenched
                                 in seductive pathos and entirely irresistible.
                                 Soon-come single 'Chain Reaction' follows, and
                                 unsurprisingly finds the band desperately aping
                                 their celebrated Mancunian label-mates as if their
                                 very mortgages depended on it.

                                 Up until this point, Hurricane#1 have been treading
                                 water in a most slothful fashion, dull glimmers of
                                 inspiration have been extinguished by half-hearted
                                 realisation, and the word 'satisfactory' has hovered
                                 over proceedings like an accusatory vulture. But,
                                 thankfully, 'Lucky Man' swaggers over the horizon
                                 and allows the band to finally fulfil their potential
                                 for greatness. It's a Herculean groove which, aided
                                 and abetted by swooping strings and driving
                                 production, culminates in a dramatically
                                 self-assured conclusion. 'Strange Meeting'
                                 continues the fightback, a nicely crafted slice of
                                 summer whimsy complete with scrubbed acoustics,
                                 jangling hooks and melodies to die for. Brash
                                 braggadocio finally yields to refreshing vulnerability
                                 in the truly wonderful 'Monday Afternoon', before
                                 the closing 'stand In Line', a hypnotic mantra of
                                 dark Lennonesque psychedelia, systematically lulls
                                 and culls the grateful listener into abject
                                 submission. All in all, 'Hurricane#1' is not so much
                                 a relentless monsoon, as a light drizzle followed by
                                 an awe-inspiring deluge of almost biblical
                                 proportions."

                                                       Ian Fortman, Vox