By Ryan Pike
A band’s involvement in a film usually serves as a warning sign reading in big letters “This band is not good enough to get noticed on their own, so they latched onto this film.” Despite this, a curious listener might grab McFly’s album Just My Luck, expecting it to be better than the Lindsay Lohan film of same name. They’d be mistaken.
The latest hot-new-thing on the British pop scene, McFly is a boy band masquerading as rockers. They play instruments and cover up their sappy melodramatic songs with adequate guitar and bass stylings, but an extended listen to Just My Luck exposes McFly’s charade. Tracks like “Obviously,” “Just My Luck,” and “Unsaid Things” make the quartet seem as deep as a wading pool and just about as interesting. We get it. You’re sad because girls don’t get you. The repeated hammering-home of this message completely obliterates the positive aspects of the album, like the relatively restrained tracks “Too Close for Comfort” and “Memory Lane.”
Desperately seeking a foothold in the North American market, McFly may need to rethink their strategy: Just My Luck is too much pop for the emo crowd, and can often be too lyrically complex for the pre-teens to which the album seems aimed. Better luck next time, fellas.