The Magic of The Coral

The Magic of The Coral

The Coral fly under the radar of popular mainstream music in America: less marketed than Australian rock band and Strokes-sound-a-likes Jet, The Coral are probably slightly less-known than The Shins, perhaps on the same level as British Sea Power. But The Coral needn’t worry. Those who know them like them, and want to spread the word (despite the good feeling of discovering a band that is a gem of a secret). I first discovered The Coral about a year ago—I saw they had been on Late Night with Conan O’Brien, and their CD was $10. It turned out to be a great CD—and I then knew of a great British band that my father (in England) didn’t become familiar with until about ten months later.

The Coral are six young men from Liverpool, England: brothers James (vocal and guitar) and Ian (drums) Skelly, Nick Power (piano, organ and vocals), Lee Southall (guitar and vocals), Paul Duffy (bass and vocals), and Bill Ryder-Jones (guitar and trumpet). Ian Skelly, Southall, Duffy and Ryder-Jones are all the tender age of 19, Power is 20, and older sibling James Skelly is the oldest at 22. For a band of younguns their sound is so well-developed and unique—psychedelic folk-rock with a little Britpop—and comes from the distinctive twang of Southall’s guitar and singer Skelly’s distinguishing, strong vocals and lyrics that unfold like a story. With the release of their self-titled debut album, The Coral established themselves as a talented young band that would only get better with time. Their second CD, Magic and Medicine, confirms that. While their sound has matured, they haven’t lost any of the whimsy or frivolity that works so well for them.

The first song, “In The Forest,” isn’t as striking as the first CD’s opener, “Spanish Main.” However, it picks up with more standard Coral-type numbers like “Don’t Think You’re The First,” “Talkin’ Gypsy Market Blues,” and especially “Bill McCai.” I’ve found The Coral are great storytellers: some of their songs are about fictional events that develop over years, and—in the case of “Bill McCai”—the undoing of a man unhappy in his life. “Bill McCai” mirrors exactly the first CD’s “Simon Diamond,” about a man who was so fed up with his life that he turned himself into a tree.