The Thin Men

Album Review. May 18, 2003

HOTEL (GlowB) * * * *

At a guess. The Thin Men's Blair Jollands spent his youth soaking up both Elvis and his noir-ish indie descendants, Alabama 3 and Jon Spencer, then whizzed them through an Antipodean blender for a hybrid just this side of pure cheddar. Its hard to judge how seriously this bequiffed New Zealander takes his vocation, but whether he's playing it for laughs or not (camp-as-butlin's gospel howls on Ice Cream City suggest he sees the funny side), much of his debut is pure magic. His bleak baritone on the unadorned Augustine induces goose-bumps, as does Eye's of Blue, a silky country love song that conveys a faint sense of dread in the manner of a dream half-remembered. Jollands captures (or adeptly imitates) Presley's southern gothic melodrama, no small achievement for one born 12,000 miles from Memphis. Smashing.
- The Guardian.

NME 22nd March 2004. Album review. * * * *



The Thin Men. Violent Love. (Kitchen sink saved for second album)

The Thin Men's Blair Jollands is a kiwi born songwriter so infatuated with art-crooner Scott Walker that he’s released the kind of album Scott would have made if he’d looked at NME’s 100 Best Albums. The result is Bizarre and Spectacular. Among the experiments there’s a nod of the head to both Leonard Cohen (Jerusalem) and The Strokes (its produced by Gordon Raphael). And even when it fails hideously, at least it’s got its eye on the stars (Killer Landings is a cod-Bowie nightmare unfit for Brett Anderson’s trash bag).
‘Violent Love’ may seemed stocked with glamour-glazed ambition but it’s the pedal-steel drenched country ballads like ‘Beautiful Day (like tomorrow)’ that really leave the heart staggering down a red carpet towards Nick Cave’s stash of moonshine. Classy.
- NME

What’s On In London. March 19th 2004. * * * *



The Thin Men, fronted by Kiwi born and raised Blair Jollands, take the best of contemporary and retro and add touches of indie to the melodic twang of country. Yes, think David Bowie meets Crowded House and Willie Nelson. ‘Eyes of Blue’ is particularly poignant and tender while ‘Bitter Girl’ would fit nicely onto a best of David Bowie set. ‘Killer landings’ sounds like that duet between Bowie and Willie Nelson. Lush Strings, trumpets, horns, piano and Blair’s sumptuous vocals lift songs like ‘Eyes of Blue’ ‘Gems’ and Jerusalem up to great pop heights. The punchy and energetic ‘Songs of Violent Love’ (The best single I’ve heard this year), is perfectly complimented by the lively breaks that kick off ‘Arena of My Soul’. And for Country flavours, try ‘Swampman’ and ‘When the Devil arrives at my Door’ (which sounds like a Willie Nelson cover). An awesome work.
- What’s On In London

The Guardian. Friday Review, March 21st 2004. * * *



Maybe it’s the Solitary confinement of growing up in New Zealand that’s led to Blair Jollands developing multiple personalities, each of them based on a music icon. Like Wurzel Gummidge trying on different heads, his voice flirts with Scott walker’s sullen majesty, embraces the weathered beauty of Willie Nelson and chews on the elastic vowels of David Bowie. And the music is equally transmogrifying. Arena of my Soul has the skewed delivery of the White Stripes and the spirit of Johnny cash, its backing vocals stolen from 1960s soul classics, while gospel-delivered lyrics shine with purity amongst the grubby frenzy. Jollands doesn’t believe in subtlety and despite the abundance of eclectic influences, a thread of sparkling campness runs through each song. Bitter Girl’s dramatic strings mirror Jollands’s high, pained vocals – the song expansive yet slippery. But it is the rock opera of Killer Landings that prove the ultimate fulfilment of Jollands’s grandiose vision, creating the warped and spacey sound of bowies Major Tom free-falling into a Mexican border town, a pedal steel guitar sighing as it watches his tumultuous crash-landing.
- The Guardian

The Guardian. Saturday March 1st 2004. Live Metro, London * * *



After a decade concocting singularly haunting blues-flecked pop, The Thin Men (essentially New Zealand ex-pat Blair Jollands) was rewarded with a central London gig and a guest list peppered with the cream of the C-list. Tara Palmer-Tompkinson and Fame Academy’s David Sneddon are to be congratulated for their discerning taste, which raises the prospect of Jollands shrugging off his under-performing niche status.

That said, there is a substantial difference between facing down a handful of celebrities and actually selling records. His first album, 2001’s elegant and overlooked Hotel, languished unbought in a year of Cold play and Hear’say. Can the new one, Violent Love, establish him as the southern hemisphere’s Scott-Walker-with-a-twist-of-Jim-Morrison?

He did not get much chance to prove himself either way here. Shoehorned into a half-hour slot that allowed just seven songs, Jollands seemed acutely aware that the clock was ticking. He could have made much of his passing resemblance to Morrison, but focused instead on ploughing through the set. It was a misjudgement: the eerie, reverb-laden vein tapped by Violent Love deserved to be milked with as much drama as possible.

The opening Arena of my Soul and Gems were perfunctorily trotted through with scant regard for atmosphere. I should stress that Jollands’s singing and guitar playing, both bluesily moulded by a stint in New Orleans, were up to scratch; The problem was that time constraints prevented him and the backing trio from coaxing the music into full, moody life.

The found their feet a bit during the second half. Jollands, who had hitherto been glancing apprehensively at the audience, finally relaxed into character. Wrapping delicate paws around the mic stand, he glowered satisfactorily on a violently rocky Songs of Violent Love, and by the closing Killer Landings was oozing attitude. As the song faded into the refrain, “It seems that I have fallen into you”, Jollands seemed transported. So he got there in the end.
- The Guardian - Live Review