Catatonia Dreamin'

Some people think Catatonia are brilliant.

Some people think I'm tall. It's all about perspective. And some perspectives are clearly warped or blurred or badly starved for the blue plate special of the day. Because Catatonia is not brilliant in any way; it does not take much generosity to listen them out, but they don't distinguish themselves particularly from all those other groups in the lucky dip bin of 'pretty good' pop groups out there.

If not brilliant, what are they? Welsh. That IS a selling point--how many Welsh indie-rock bands do you know? We know this because the title track International Velvet is a noisy thanksgiving that proclaims "Everyday I wake up, I thank the Lord I'm Welsh." The other verses go, "Deffrwch Cymry cysglyd gwlad y g,n" --which could be an elaboration on said religio-nationalistic gratitude, or, you know, something else altogether. Either way, the Welsh group is bent on going international, and in that velveteen, strangely alien way that European groups have of taking over.

And that's about all the mystery you are going to get. The other songs are in banal-cute popenglish, which is that language which rhymes every so often at the cost of linear narrative or even fundamental sense: "I'll be your Baba Papa/I'll be you Baba Papa/If you'll be a BaBa Papa to me." Okay. What do you say to that? You just bob your head along and agree.

Because Catatonia certainly isn't trying to break new ground. They just want to break onto the scene. The sounds are competent but basic, and, in a reassuring (unchallenging) sort of way, don't go where you have never been before. The guitars crash along like a sandy syrup, and the rhythms are just enough to give me a silly grin to accompany my mindless bouncing. At the end of the album, however, my endorphins know that this could be a pleasant, but will never be a long-lived, relationship.

In fact, the story of Catatonia since their conception in 1992 has been one of almost-embarrassing mediocrity. If I had passed lead vocalist Cerys Lewis on the streets busking covers of Jefferson Airplane songs (you know, if I was living in Cardiff and shopping at Debenhams in 1992), I might have thought that the girl had something going. But I wouldn't have given her my bus fare.

Guitarist and other vocalist Mark Roberts thought better, and so started a band with Lewis. Catatonia went on to take Owen Powell on guitar, Paul Jones on bass, an Aled Richards on drums, all of whom are Cardiff cads save the last, who is a Llanelli lad. Their first album Way Beyond Blue came out in 1996 to high praise from critics, but entered the charts as 40. And stayed there. The same year, they re-released their most renowned underground record Bleed, which did not even chart in the top 40. 1997 saw the single I Am the Mob chart in at 40 and drop right out again.

Finally, early this year, Mulder and Scully, by far Catatonia's most well-known and popular song (with no little credit to the cunningly-penned name), strode into the UK charts at three. International Velvet was then released to scramble into the charts at 11, subsequently moving to three. And that explains why Catatonia were finally picked up by American label Neil Young's Vapor. Potential moolah, not amazing artistry.

Otherwise, you would never have known that thing about the Baba Papa. And, you would have been fed some other inanity by some other pop band. My theory is that International Velvet got to three the same other inanity by some other pop band. My theory is that International Velvet got to three the same way that Sartre won the Nobel Prize for Literature--because somebody had to. It (either the album or Sartre) is not something you want to take to a desert island with you. Unless you are certain that you are going to die soon, and want some happy dump music to keep your spirits up for your last couple of days.

I must be fair and say that Catatonia still has that kick that so many American groups have lost these days: they make happy-making music. They sing "I put horse's heads in people's beds/Cause I am the mob" with perfect bubbliness. Mulder and Scully, Road Rage and Johnny Come Lately are just plain fun and catchy. Don't Need the Sunshine is, for lack of a better description, nicely undemanding. It's definitely sing-along material. Other songs are just forgettable.

The one remarkable feature of Catatonia is the vocal uniqueness of Lewis. Hers is a sexy, scratchy elfin voice that sounds like Bjork with a mild fever and a wider range, that adds a disarming freshness to the songs. I especially like the way she whispers "Baba Papa," Which suggests all the subtle sweet sex appeal of the continent (although, strictly, Wales, you Know...)

And that should seduce the American Perspective. Catatonia will be aired, will be heard, will be bought, will be big, will be talked about amongst your Welsh pop aficionados, and go the way of The Cardigans.

Honestly, I do like them, but that still doesn't mean I'm tall.