{"id":1427,"date":"2008-05-13T09:53:25","date_gmt":"2008-05-13T13:53:25","guid":{"rendered":""},"modified":"2008-05-13T13:33:44","modified_gmt":"2008-05-13T13:33:44","slug":"happy-hour-suits-duffy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rocktownhall.com\/blogs\/happy-hour-suits-duffy\/","title":{"rendered":"Happy Hour Suits Duffy"},"content":{"rendered":"
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How can I review Welsh import Duffy<\/strong>‘s Rockferry<\/em> album without getting caught up in the UK retro-pop marketing race? “If you like the sound of Amy Winehouse<\/a> but are put off by the extraneous skank angle, try Duffy!”<\/em> That works for me. Beside, there’s no topping Winehouse’s take on Lenny Bruce’s “Girl Singing” bit, and the cost of producing bubblegum with Sugar in the Raw is prohibitive.<\/p>\n

Duffy, “Warwick Avenue”<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Duffy’s the cute, ever-so-slightly sassy good girl of swingin’ ’60s culture. She’s at her dinner club best on the title track and the late-’70s-style take on ’60 Motown, “Warwick Avenue”. You remember Smokey Robinson<\/strong>‘s “Cruisin'”, don’t you? The only difference is that Duffy is waxing nostalgic over an era she never sniffed from the tip of a rubber nipple let alone lived. At other times, such as on “Sleeping Stone” and “Delayed Devotion”, the late-’70s smooth soul production familiar to older listeners of Philadelphia’s WDAS betrays the Brigitte Bardot<\/strong> hairdo and all-around To Sir With Love<\/em> packaging. There’s not a thing wrong with this sound when done well, but I note this as a warning to any middle-aged rock nerds hoping to get even a knuckle’s worth of the depth to a great Dusty Springfield<\/strong> performance. <\/p>