Send "Paul Smith " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 If you've been patiently waiting for that dude in the Bravery to strike out on his own, your moment of glory might come soon enough. 2010 has seen solo records from the frontmen of the Killers and Bloc Party, two bands who played an enormous role in defining the hi-hat-heavy, synth-spiked sound of modern radio rock that turned "angular" into the most overused word in music criticism of 2005. Paul Smith makes it an official trend with Margins; while his band, Maxïmo Park, didn't quite reach the same level of notoriety, A Certain Trigger is certainly amongst the best of last decade's post-punk revival records. But while Flowers and Kele were able to use their albums as a logical continuation of their band's increasingly flamboyant tendencies, Maxïmo Park have been leaking momentum for years; by their third album, the songwriting digressed to the point where Smith's bowler hat was the band's most interesting feature.But even with lower expectations, it's difficult to reconcile the past with Margins. The first two songs ease us in, reminiscent of the underrated "ballads" from Our Earthly Pleasures or the melodically cresting, heart-on-sleeve emoting of Frightened Rabbit. From there on out what's most striking is just how much of a solo album this is. The drums are lightly brushed, not pounded, guitars mostly acoustic and lightly trickling from earphone to earphone, Smith's tensile sing-speak is stretched to a Jarvis Cocker croon. And all of it is softened at the edges by a spacious, hands-off production aesthetic of holistic reverb and roomsound. Yet while the you-are-there sound of Margins is sympathetic to Smith as a singer, the laconic tempos don't do him many favors as a songwriter. Nearly every track has some sort of charming bargaining chip-- the gorgeous guitar and knocking knick-knack percussion arrangement of "This Heat", the domestic voyeurism of "While You're in the Bath"-- but the melodies ramble along, never finding their footing. And then there are the indulgences-- "Alone, I Would've Dropped" is the kind of droning, Middle Eastern experiment most people try once and (rightfully) only once in their career, but "I Drew You Sleeping" draws a grand melodic guidance from its silvery Johnny Marr riffs to provide an intriguing glimpse of Smith as a luxuriant mope rather than an acoustic-toting confessor....full text |
| Nme |
| The perfect break-up album makes you smell the Timotei tang of an ex-lover’s hair brushing across your face. It grimaces when stepping into a room, only to see their gender-skewed possessions scattered about the place, gauchely oblivious to the fact that their owner has gone. It does not, Paul Smith, admit to perving on one’s ex-girlfriend in the tub through cracks in the bathroom door. That’s plain weird, and possibly due cause for a restraining order. There was no need for a Paul Smith solo album, seemingly no ego struggling to burst free from Maximo Park – his foppish, funny lyrics sat just dandily amidst the band’s angular charms, referencing Soviet filmmakers and Belgian journals to his heart’s waywardly bookish delight. ‘Margins’ though, is mawkish and self-indulgent to the last, a wet weekend of a record, drably trudging through inelegant, wannabe-Mike Leigh vignettes into Smith’s failed relationship....full text |
| Bbc |
| Newcastle’s Maxïmo Park were among the more thoughtful bands to emerge during the UK post-punk/new wave revival of the mid-00s, due in no small part to the acutely observed lyrics of front man Paul Smith. A year on from his group’s rather disappointing third album Quicken the Heart, Smith is back with a collection of self-penned songs recorded with a collection of north-east friends including Field Music’s David Brewis on bass. This is apparently just a side project rather than the beginning of a solo career – Maxïmo Park are currently working on new material – and Margins doesn’t represent much of a departure away from their established template. Tracks like North Atlantic Drift and Dare Not Dive appear to be Smith on auto-pilot and would slip seamlessly onto Quicken the Heart with their angular rhythms, spiky guitars and half-sung, half-shouted choruses. Our Lady of Lourdes is better – layered and more atmospheric – but there’s a general lack of killer tunes here and the likes of Wild Beasts have moved this particular brand of intelligent art rock on to a whole new, more interesting plane. To be fair, delve a little deeper and there is some genuine branching out to be found. While You’re In The Bath is just a songwriter plucking his lone guitar and pouring out his heart, while Pinball closes the set impressively with its combination of haunting cello, maudlin, sonorous vocal and lilting country-folk chords bringing to mind a Geordie Micah P. Hinson....full text |
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