Guggenheim Grotto

With songs titled "Ozymandias” and lyrics that declare "they call me a poet” Dublin’s the Guggenheim Grotto can be classified with Britain’s musical intelligentsia. Bands like Keane, Coldplay and fellow Dubliner, Damien Rice whose over-education stains their music in much the same way Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s lady troubles stained his. The release of Waltzing Alone, then is good news for soundtracks to Hollywood movies (imagine something in which Jennifer Aniston’s blue-collar character is wooed by a previously-oblivious and egocentric London-transplant lawyer). There is no denying the musical ability of Mick Lynch and Shane Power, two multi-instrumentalists that Kevin May (no relation to Brian, unfortunately) recruited to help him bring his singer-songwriter shtick to the masses. The opening of "Philisophia” almost has Iron & Wine potential, while "Porotmarnock Beach Boy Blue” starts with some exotic, rhythmic chanting; even the rather obviously titled "Koan,” a tribute to Leonard Cohen, is somewhat endearing. There is little here that sounds new, however, which for the passive music lover, means a new favourite band.