(Polydor / Universal)

They take a lot of shit (believe me, I’ve been one of the more vocal naysayers for a number of years) but Powderfinger are one of Brisbane’se biggest musical exports and it’s probably something we’ll have to deal with. They’ll be remembered for an extensive and impressive back catalogue long after the bitching over their blokey fans or foppish leanings die down. With any luck their new single, All Of The Dreamers, will not be remembered amongst their greatest achievements: it lumbers, the progressions are predictable and I don’t believe that Bernard Fanning has written a political track with any sort of subtlety and quality since Internationalist. It will, of course, sell a bajillion copies, but not to anyone you know. And while we’re all ready to nail a turd to these Brissie boys, The Golden Rule will surprise many who may have given up hope. They still really only have two settings – stomping rock chords where Fanning shakes a tambourine and elevating moshpit anthems – but it’s the simple surprises on The Golden Rule that forced a fairer appraisal. The stabbing horns on Iberian Dream beef up an otherwise aforementioned sluggish stomp, while multi-tracked whirring harmonies equally enrich Burn Your Name. But I’m pretty sure Jewel’s off-kilter falsetto vocal hook (and almost out of tune, how does that even happen in 2009?) was an afterthought and should’ve stayed that way, along with the handful of acoustic moaners. There are some gems on ‘The Fingers’ seventh album, but they shine only sitting next to rough pebbles. They’ve re-earned my interest, but not yet my fondness.

***˝

MITCH ALEXANDER

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