Westside Cowboy’s 'It Goes On' – Album Review

Words: Ellis Barker

This is an album of the here and now. 

Westside Cowboy are that friend you have that literally no one you have ever met has a bad word about, the friend that makes you chuffed just to be associated with them; like my mate Arun. Over an incredibly quick couple of years, they have built up an aura as The Band for this sect of British youth. They are a group that speaks to so many of my friends  and peers and our collective experience. Even at the lofty heights they now occupy, they are still vaunted as a band of the people, embraced so wholly by those still playing at a grassroots level, cheered on with perhaps the attitude that they’re "doing it for those of us back home.” Perhaps it’s because of their incessant championing of our grassroots music, using their platform to uplift those bands they feel deserve it most. Seldom are the group seen without one of them wearing a band tee from the likes of Elwell, Holly Head or Bramwell. 

The Cowboys seem to stand apart from the rest of the industry. In the homogenous cavalcade of new bands created to steal any scrap of your attention and devotion that they can, there’s a genuine kindness and authenticity to Westside Cowboy that leaves them floating above all that mess. Their story of four friends starting a band in their bedroom in a flat in Manchester, and the realness with which they seem to approach the industry, endears them to you in a way other bands of the moment simply do not. I’m cynical enough to recognise that perhaps this story is to some extent a marketing ploy, but not so cynical that I can’t buy into it and love them for all of the wondrous things they stir deep inside of me. The train that these lonesome cowboys ride keeps on thundering down the track. Two massive EPs released in quick succession.  An impressive touring schedule that has honed the band’s musicianship to a razor-sharp level and created a live performance that’s a work of art unto itself. 

And now, it goes on. 

The building of an album is a craft that is perhaps overlooked nowadays in the age of streaming. To some extent, we seem to have returned to a time before Sinatra’s In The Wee Small Hours or The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, where albums are merely a collection of songs used a means of pushing a few big hits, as opposed to a curated package, a work unto itself. Time is a circle. The care put into the ebb and flow of It Goes On then, is truly appreciated. The album reels you in with an explosive start, before revealing its softer, most powerful works once it’s got you right where it wants it. Opener Kick Stones (The Boys) feels like a musical statement of intent for the band, an encapsulation of what the band are right at this moment and what they’re going to offer you. It’s the perfect lead single; vibrating and thrumming and pulsating with infectious energy. Second track Paperchains is the first real taste of the album proper, it being the first non-single. It races down the track, propelling you with it, like when you’re a kid looking out the car window and you imagine a little ninja parkouring over the hedges and buildings and road signs to keep up with you. It’s controlled meltdown leading into the final quarter of the song is an early reminder by the band that they will be keeping you on your toes. On Dobro, nestled amongst a guitar part that would make T. Rex stir in its grave, lies one of the most delectable Jangle-pop guitar breaks, janky and angular in all the right ways. Every song on the album is filled with these nuggets of glee-inducing musicality. Aoife’s anthemic chants at the end of Pin Up Boys, the tinkle of glass bottles on Coyote, Paddy’s bedroom disco drum groove on Well Done Kid, You Did It; all of it leaves a smile on your face you didn’t even realise you had. 

There’s a very considered and intentional use of the studio in the sound of the album. The band started recording in New York, same as with their second EP, yet when it came to putting down the recordings that would make it onto the album, they decided on Leeds’ Greenmount Studios. A deliberate recentring back to their roots, putting their community and home at the heart of the work. This is reflected in the finished product, with a lo-fi, fuzzy tinge to the sound of the record. It helps to contextualize the work within the band’s journey. For all their massive runaway success, Westside Cowboy are self-aware enough to understand that they are still in their infancy and so relish in the youthful energy and the joy of a first album. Following tours supporting Geese and Black Country, New Road, and the swell of goodwill behind them, Westside Cowboy had every right to go big on their debut, turning to that massive stadium rock sound. But that would be inauthentic to them, so it isn’t even considered. This is an album for their future selves to remember what it was like right  at this moment in time. The songs are still powerful and anthemic, but the production keeps them intimate and personal. 

The second side of the album is immediately recognisable with the tune Big Wheels. The energy shift is immediate, and upon first listen I sank into my bed, refocused like a dolly zoom. It’s a great example of the band’s wonderful lyrical work. The words on It Goes On are often implicit, providing a broad familiarity, a sketch of feelings we know. There’s warmth to be found in the fact that these guys often end up feeling the same way as me on things they may not even be talking about. It’s up to your interpretation, but with every fresh listen there’s a new line that sticks out for you to mull over. Coyote is another lyrical highlight for its message on environmentalism, but it’s also a standout for Aoife’s lead vocal. I so often find myself drawn to her voice in the band’s harmonies; it cuts through the rest of the mix so incredibly well. The chances for her to shine as lead vocal are always welcomed. 

A haunting piano echoing in the middle of the room, surrounded by the patchwork soundscape of Patchwork. Truly wonderful levels of restraint are shown in the songcraft. Not one solo or drum groove or energy release is too indulgent nor too underdeveloped. Everything has its moment to shine, but everything is carefully considered in place. Even that addictive studio sauce drizzled over the top of the songs remains carefully measured, such as the synths at the end of Worried Age. There is nothing but guitar and vocal on Take My Leaving As I Love You, but the Morricone-esque guitar rhythms provide all the atmosphere the song needs, leaving the song feeling like the breakup anthem of some lonesome cattle rancher. To list the all the influences and sonic ancestors of the band is a pointless endeavour. Not only for the sheer number of relatives there are, as the band seem to draw from every nook and cranny, but because it doesn’t matter. The band sound so warmly, reassuringly familiar, yet the music is so uniquely them, so personal and from the  heart that it cannot be anything other than brand new.

This album is real. This album is tangible. This album is three-dimensional. I can walk throughout its space, sit on its bass amp, trip over the room mic cable, trap my fingers in the hi-hats. And in the same way I can see myself within this album, I see this album within my own world. With that in mind, here are my top three places to listen to it. 

1. On the train to meet all your friends, with the knowledge that you don’t have anything to get up for in the morning. 

2. In the break room of your job, shutting out everything that perhaps you don’t want to be and for half an hour, insulating yourself with what you feel to be absolutely right for you. 

3. With your mum, in an attempt to communicate to her what you see when you look at the world out of the window. 

These guys make me never want to touch an instrument ever again, for fear of never making music with even half the power as some of these songs. At the same time, they make me want to quit my job and dedicate my days to a band with every one of my friends, even the poorly dressed ones that can’t hold a tune to save their lives.  

And yet, 

Despite the dramatic flair with which I have thoroughly defined this album, this album is not that big. It’s not some grandiose, all-consuming masterpiece, the culmination of an artist’s life’s work. It is intentionally small, serving instead as a musical photo album. This is an album of the here and now, an encapsulation of what it means to be in a band with these types of people in this neck of the woods in this day and age. For this reason, it speaks to me in a rather profound way and attaches itself effortlessly to my being. It very well may do the same to you, but even if it does not, it is still a wonderfully complete collection of songs that serve as the opening salvo to what it is hopefully a long and fruitful career in music-making.