Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.Continuing their ransacking of the retro-pop style hamper, Supergrass have, as expected, toughened up their sound somewhat since I Should Coco, developing that album's echoes of The Who and adding a few more subtle colours to their palette too.
In the case of "Sun Hits the Sky", this means that the classic Who elements - the splashy drums, the ornate bassline, and the razor riffing - are augmented with nerdy analogue synth sounds and an Eastern-flavoured percussive coda, all very Who's Next, while "You Can See Me" seems inspired more by Who Are You. But there's a galloping euphoria to much of the album which Townshend & Co long since lost, if they ever had it at all. As Gaz Coombes sings in "Cheapskate": "Somebody stop me / 'Cos I'm breaking into life!" Brimful of vim and vigour, it's the sound of glorious spring, of new life bursting out to meet the sun, just as, later on, the wistful bliss of "It's Not Me" basks in its reflective warmth.
Their growing eclecticism leads Supergrass in some unforeseen directions here, from the spine-tingling Neil Young-style guitar of "G Song" to the cosmic-idiot whine of the theremin which pops up at various points. Particularly impressive are the horn arrangements which decorate the album, adding dashes of ironic pomp or more complex moods to songs like the title-track and "Hollow Little Reign", two of several self-effacing glances at their own celebrity. Eclecticism, however, is a double-edged sword, and sometimes their desire for something different pulls a song completely out of shape, as with the huffing vocal percussion, wheezy keyboard and mad Django-esque guitar run in the closing "Sometimes I Make You Sad", as plainly bonkers as anything the Beatles came up with in their daftest moments. But for most of its course, In It for the Money tacks entertainingly between the raucous and the reflective, moving forward even as it leans toward the past.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments