reviews:

There are those albums you listen to once and chuck in the bin. There are those albums you listen to and think twice about keeping. And there are those albums that you like and slip neatly between The Cure's 'Pornography' and Stump's 'Quirk Out', not to be played until you feel so flippin' weird that you'll search for it again. Then there are the precious things in your collection. The Smiths' 'Meat is Murder' and 'Queen is Dead', Hefner's 'Breaking God's Heart', The Fall's 'Hex Enduction Hour' or maybe even that early Talullah Gosh single. That this scrumptious collection belongs in this particular little clique is worth a street party at least. And this isn't even a proper album. It's a singles and odd and sods compilation, that makes me want to compare it to 'Hatful of Hollow' at the very least. And it easily stands up against such immense expectations, merely for its scope of wonderful pop songs. And the lyrics. And songs that are called 'The Cassingle Revival' and the Morrisey-esque way The Lucksmiths can twist a phrase and make it at the same time hilarious and desperate. You want stand-out tracks? Phew..it's tough, but, have a gander at 'Can't Believe My Eyes, 'I Prefer the 20th Century', 'T-shirt Weather' - all three lined up together to make me want to faint with joy, and then swoon to 'Southernmost' and 'The Great Dividing Range'. This is IT. This is the real thing. This is the sort of album you can play at least 15 times continuously without ever, EVER tiring of a single note. All hail the Lucksmiths, for they do it for me.  --Tasty

Like Belle & Sebastian with a sense of humor, the Lucksmiths have been delivering smart, witty, relentlessly tuneful pop songs for just as many years as those dour Scots. And where B&S often feel like winter, the Lucksmiths are unquestionably springtime. They write tiny, shining songs whose glorious restraint is one of their chief strengths. Seldom straying beyond a simple snare, spritely guitar and twinkling organ, songs like "The Cassingle Revival" and "A Downside to the Upstairs" rely on cunning tunesmithing rather than indulgent orchestration to make their mark. The masterstroke is Marty Donald's knack for phrase turns and his ability to sing like he's winking. "T-Shirt Weather" is a fantastically bounding ode to warm weather, and even the downcast "Southernmost" sounds strangely hopeful. The Lucksmiths excel in holding back, and their strength is in their willingness to appear limited.  --Shredding Paper

The Lucksmiths are one of the world's finest indiepop bands and "Where Were We?" confirms their stature. Despite the fact that this collection of singles and EPs was recorded in various studios between 1999 and 2001, there is a definite thread of continuity. That thread is solid songwriting and strong musicianship, including bass lines that stick in your mind all day. Despite slight changes in production value, each track jingles with a spark of life and happiness and the songs about reviving the cassingle and enjoying beautiful summer weather with friends will easily win you over. A fine collection.  --Devil In The Woods

Where Were We? is a collection of songs (compilation appearances, single tracks) recorded between 1999-2001 by Australia's Lucksmiths. It's a truly delicious collection too, reaching a myriad of heady heights. There's 'Tmrw vs Y'day' and the lines 'The lessons learned and the bridges burned - these things hurt, these things happen anyway' that ring in my head and bring me close to tears, not for any good reason other than they capture the understanding that feelings, moments, raw nerves transcend geography. Transcend time. And nothing captures that better than great, pure Pop like this. Best of all is the yearning demo for 'The Great Dividing Range'. With added strings it's undoubtedly the highlight of their "Why That Doesn't Surprise Me" album, and here, with just guitar and bass accompanying Tali White's beautifully laconic vocal, it's equally as special. It's a song that will nestle down deep in your heart and set up camp. It's there for the duration. Just like The Lucksmiths.  --Careless Talk Costs Lives

Following in the tradition of 1999's Happy Secret, this is an assortment of recordings made by the Melbourne-based tunesmiths between 1999 and 2001. It includes b-sides, non-album tracks and rarities that have appeared in various hard-to-find compilations. A must for fans, this is an indie-folk collection featuring the kind of pleasant harmonies and wistful lyrics that the band have been expertly crafting since recording their first demo tape in 1993. Highlights include the acoustic sound of "A Downside To The Upstairs." And established favourites such as "T-Shirt Weather", "Even Stevens" and "Friendless Summer." There are also some excellent lyrics on show" "Your loyalty's divided, between digital and vinyl, but I'm still waiting, for the cassingle revival." Production values vary - some tracks are demo standard, while others are obviously works-in-progress. However, the quality of songwriting papers over any flaws. These tracks are unlikely to fill a dancefloor, or earn the band a Mortiis support slot. But fans of Belle & Sebastian should certainly check out the Lucksmiths. This is quite simply some of the best indie music to come from down under since fey favourites Even As We Speak. Quiet truly is the new loud.  --Record Collector Magazine

Compilation CDs can be difficult. They can end up like a collection of greatest hits, or just a group of songs with no real purpose or flow. With Where Were We?, however, The Lucksmiths don't fall into any of these traps. In fact they leap over them with the sort of grace and class we've grown to expect from the Melbourne trio. Where Were We? is a collection of The Lucksmiths' finest moment from the past few years. Appearing on b-sides, compilations or in the live arena, these songs provide a good introduction for new fans (Triple J has just started playing old favourite "T-Shirt Weather"), and a reward for loyal fans who lapped up the band's gorgeous studio album of last year. The opener, Cassingle Revival, epitomises The Lucksmiths' sound. Tantilisingly twee, the bass of Mark Monnone, guitar of Marty Donald, and the unmistakable voice of singer and drummer Tali White, amble along with quiet confidence. At the half-way mark T-Shirt Weather prevails. Even more perfect than its predecessors it embodies the arrival of summer. This song will make you smile and tap your foot, it will make you feel all warm and fuzzy. Can't Believe My Eyes, Downside to the Upstairs and Even Stevens are equally commendable. These songs glisten and shine. From the delightful hum of Southernmost, to the almost Sparklehorsean moments of Mars, Where Were We? never falters.The Lucksmiths reign supreme, they truly are the kings of indie pop and Where Were We? is proof that this is one monarchy we should never vote out.  --Oz Music Project

The Lucksmiths are truly special, one of those bands that makes you feel good to be alive to witness them. Their sharp, trim sound--one drum, one bass, one guitar and vocals, with an occasional organ or horn--puts their superb melodies, hooks and lyrics right in front. Their lyrics rely on clever wordplay and heart-on-sleeve emotion to convey day-to-day life, places and situations in a humorous, humane way. They sing songs about friends, holidays, boredom, sunshine, attraction, loneliness, heartbreak and so much more on Where Were We?, a collection of non-album-tracks recorded between 1999 and 2001. It's a scrapbook of what they've been up to and where they've been, recorded all over: in six different places in their native Australia, plus London, Brooklyn and College Park, Maryland. Where the songs come from is a story of the busy musicians' lives they lead. There's songs from: a 7" commemorating their 2001 North American Summer tour, a sampler CD from a tour of Japan, a 7" celebrating New Year's Eve 2000, compilations for an assortment of indie labels (Candle, Red Square, Drive-In, Red Roses For Me) and some of their own EPs and 7"s. And there's lots of great songs, from upbeat numbers like "Myopic Friends," "Welcome Home" and the fan-favorite "T-Shirt Weather" to slower, sadder ballads like "A Downside to the Upstairs" and "Friendless Summer." There's also a spunky collaboration with the Ladybug Transistor ("Even Stevens"), a demo of a song from last year's Why That Doesn't Surprise Me album ("The Great Dividing Range") and the atypically spacey "Mars," which has vocals that sound like they were phoned in from the Red Planet itself (lead vocalist/drummer Tali White actually phoned them in from London, the liner notes tell us). All said, Where Were We? is enough to make pop music fans starry-eyed, whether they already know about the wondrous Lucksmiths or they're about to discover them.  --Erasing Clouds

Like the "Happy Secret" cd from a couple years back, this is a collection of single and compilation tracks the band have released between 1999 and 2001. While all of the songs have been released, they range from the easy to find tracks from the "T-shirt Weather" 7"/cd on Matinée (though for some reason, they've left off their cover of the Magnetic Fields' "Deep Sea Diving Suit") to the difficult to track down demo of "The Great Dividing Range" from a Japanese-only tour sampler cd released on Clover. Actually, I tell a lie; one track has yet to be released: "Welcome Home", which is to be on the next installment of the "The Way Things Change" series of 7"s on Red Square, out very soon. You'll also find their "Cassingle Revival" cassette/7", "Friendless Summer" 7", the tracks from both the "Banter" and "Feast" comp cds on Candle, and even the Lucky Ladybugs (Lucksmiths + Ladybug Transistor) song from the "Indie Aid Abroad" cd on Drive-In. Still, it's very nice to have all of these songs in one place. And don't think that just because these are all compilation or single tracks that they aren't up to the usual Lucksmiths standard of quality; I think the Lucksmiths haven't released a bad song since 1995. Plus, the fold-out sleeve is quite attractive! MTQ=14/14  --IndiePages

Over the course of a half-dozen albums and a stack of singles dating back to 1993, the Lucksmiths have put the "twee" in "between." Exactly the sort of band most bedeviled by comparisons, this Australian trio continues to make up in prolificacy and prettiness (brushed drums, blue-eyed organ, acoustic guitar) what it lacks in originality (brushed drums, blue-eyed organ, acoustic guitar). Straddling the line between the matter-of-fact tragicomedy of the Smiths (the Lucksmiths' heroes and namesake) and the more abstruse pastorales of Belle and Sebastian at a time when even feyness demands a little aggression isn't necessarily noble or nervy, but the results have often been memorable. Sitting on a fence doesn't have to crush a group's balls, though, and key songwriter Marty Donald's lyrics project a boyish (but pre-testosterone) urgency that rescues his delicate melodies from preciousness. The Lucksmiths' best album, last year's Why That Doesn't Surprise Me, came buttoned up for Sunday school but actually played better before Saturday's big date. A stand-up set of EP tracks and b-sides, Where Were We? lacks that album's cohesion but not its understated romanticism or tuneful momentum - it's a soothing tonic for waking up alone the next morning. Innovation is overrated; the Lucksmiths remain underrated.  --Magnet Magazine

If there was ever a competition for "world's most charming indie band", Australia's Lucksmiths would win it hands down. In a live setting, the combination of singer/stand up drummer Tali White, smiling bassist Mark Monnone, and reserved and focused guitarist Marty Donald has been known to melt the hardest of hearts -- the fact that they work for your money, telling countless amusing anecdotes between songs and infusing their swinging pop with more energy than anyone would have a right to expect, is icing on the cake. All that, and they make pretty great records too! Last year's Why That Doesn't Surprise Me found itself on many a critic's year-end top-10 list, and for good reason: it was perhaps the most simultaneously breezy, sunny and intelligent record released last year. While the Lucksmiths tend to receive lots of comparisons to their sort-of-namesakes, The Smiths, Donald and Monnone's songs (all of them sung by White, who only writes a very select few) hardly ever resonate with the kind of miserable self-obsession that the Mozzer forged his career from. The band also receives frequent comparisons to Belle & Sebastian, and while that's a slightly more accurate assessment, the Lucksmiths usually favor much simpler, less pretentious arrangements than their Scottish contemporaries. Instead, The Lucksmiths thrive on witty wordplay (such as "Why don't you let go of your boy and see / You've lost none of your buoyancy"), lazily strummed guitars, and loping, skillful basslines. White's voice is butter-smooth, peppered with his extraordinarily endearing Australian accent. In short, unless you happen to be allergic to witty, well-composed pop music, this is a band that's hard to resist. Like any good indie band, the Lucksmiths have amassed quite a few singles and compilation tracks over the years. Ten of these such were compiled on 1998's Happy Secret, and now the trend continues with Where Were We?, a collection of fourteen of the band's A-sides, B-sides, compilation tracks, and other such ephemera and rarities. As such, it's not only a must for fans of the band (although diehards will probably already own much of this), but an excellent primer for the Lucksmiths newcomer. The disc starts out with a classic slice of Lucksmiths with "The Cassingle Revival". With White crooning lines like "And in the dappled sunshine, underneath the clothesline / I spent this afternoon nostalgic for the morning" Donald's guitar jangling unpretentiously and Monnone's bassline loping along effortlessly, the listener is instantly drawn into the Lucksmiths' infectious brand of indie pop. From there, the disc ranges from the perky, head-bobbing pop of "T-Shirt Weather" and "Can't Believe My Eyes" to more melancholy excursions such as the gorgeous "Tmrw vs. Y'day" and the pensive "Goodness Gracious" ("What a beautiful day for a crushing defeat"). The whole disc through, the Lucksmiths' songs shine with White's endearing vocals, and the band's loose, shimmery take on simple pop tunes. Perhaps my only gripe with this collection is the omission of the band's cover of the Magnetic Fields' "Deep Sea Diving Suit", which would have fit right in with the program. And though newbies might be pointed towards Why That Doesn't Surprise Me as the first place to go for a dose of the Lucksmiths, this, in a pinch, would do just fine. And for those already converted, this is, obviously, a necessity.  --PopMatters

The Lucksmiths confirm all the clichés about Australia we learned from "Neighbours" as kids: it's always sunny (even when it rains), the people always find something to smile about (even when they're sad), and there's a joke in everything (even when you've just been dumped). Although some of their records have been licensed through Fortuna Pop! here in the UK, it's still well worth mining the back catalogue of the Lucksmiths' spiritual home Candle Records, as there is still many a gem only available by mail order from down under. Candle make it easy for us here, giving the Lucksmiths their very own "Hatful of Hollow" by collecting up various singles, compilation tracks, promos and other curiosities from 1999 to 2001 to fill in some of the gaps. While "Where Were We?" doesn't have the consistent quality of last album proper "Why Doesn't That Surprise Me?", it's fantastic that great tracks like "T-shirt Weather", "Southernmost" and "The Cassingle Revival" have found a home on long player and will be heard by a wider audience. There's something very 1950s about the Lucksmiths - something to do with the minimal drumming (there's no Black Sabbath kit here!), but mostly because of the honest simplicity and warmth in these songs. You feel sure the Lucksmiths would be your friends, and you can almost imagine bumping into them at Al's in "Happy Days". They seem to cast back to a time when life was simpler - no problems too great not to be solved by a cup of tea and a game of scrabble, or a walk in the park with your mates. It isn't the pretence of being 14 that you get in Helen Love or (particularly early) Belle and Sebastian records - the Lucksmiths very definitely inhabit an adult world, but one which has somehow managed to retain magic in the smallest things, making it seem like the school holidays all the time. The Lucksmiths are a special band - where else are you going to get more puns that the average Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine chorus, along with great heartbreakers like "they'd sit up all night talking / but she's sound asleep to the sound of his walkman"? And the good news is that if this is their "Hatful of Hollow" then their "Queen is Dead" is still to come...  --Stolen Wine

I like this record. There's no real reason to go into any further detail about that--there's nothing to pontificate on. Besides, why should I? I like the Lucksmiths; they make good, pretty, literate pop. How could anyone not really like the Lucksmiths? There's plenty to like about them, and a great deal of it comes from the fact that their music is simply pretty. Where Were We? is their second singles collection, and these songs clearly show that not only are their b-sides just as brilliant as their singles. Of course, you really see a band's best side when you listen to a compilation album, because you know they're putting (in theory) their best work forward, and such is definitely the case with the Lucksmiths. Starting with their lovely "The Cassingle Revival" (from, heh, a cassingle!), you're pelted with quiet acoustic pop that is easily and quickly compared to such bands as Aden, Belle and Sebastian, and The Go-Betweens. All of these songs shimmer quietly, and while they don't knock you down, they'll pick you up rather nicely. Really, how could you possibly go wrong with songs about falling in love, being sad, changing seasons, and thoughtful introspection? Truth is, you can't, really, and the Lucksmiths haven't been wrong for several years now. Pick up Where Were We? and get a good listen today to the future stars of tomorrow. Even if the stardom thing doesn't work out, you'll still be glad you spent some time with them, because Where Were We is the sound of a young indiepop band growing up and growing into an impressive act.  --Mundane Sounds

I've spent the last year listening to 'The Cassingle Revival' - at least once every two or three days I have to play it. But it's taken time for me to realise just how good they are. I think I was reading too much about The Lucksmiths prior to hearing them. Even Natalie Imbruglio was singing their praises. I was expecting to be knocked out and subsequently thrown out of kilter when it didn't happen. What I realise now is that The Lucksmiths don't go for heavy punches when guile and subtlety are more powerful weapons. Rather than hitting you once and then fizzling away, their songs insinuate themselves slowly in the deeper realms of your consciousness, drug-like and by virtue, primarily, of their conceits and lyrical minuets. They are erudite. If I were to start listing my favourite lines I don't know where I'd be able to stop. Anyway, this is a beautifully packaged CD containing singles and compilation appearances circa 1999-2001. Ah, those were the days!  --Wide Open Road

"where were we ?" is a compilation of "non-album" lucksmiths moments from the past year or two - there have been a few. for the uninitiated (like us, we're ashamed to say) the 'smiths are a melbourne trio who adhere to the australian tradition of melding impeccable musicianship with arch lyricism, cramming songs full of one-liners yet still somehow maintaining an affecting outlook over the three minute heroics in which they specialise. we can but dwell on our own favourites - "the cassingle revival", a killer a-side on the bristling fortuna pop!: "can't believe my eyes" - a spanking pop journey powered by the briskest of strums: and of course "even stevens", the ladybug transistor collaboration, from the superb east timor benefit cd put together by library and drive-in. but the top tunes don't end there: both sides of that super matinée 7" "t-shirt weather" are here, as well as the kooky "i prefer the twentieth century", the first tune to really encapsulate new-aeon ennui. and in the same way that we've never heard a bad song on which mark e. smith provides vocals, we've never heard a bad song on which vocals were provided down a phone line (admittedly, we've only heard two: daniel johnston and yo la tengo, and now "mars", a beautiful song to close in which tali white's voice just sounds perfect). this summary is cursory merely because most of u will already be aware of the artistry of this band, and preaching to the converted has always seemed a relative waste of energy in these environmentally conscious times. for us, the lucksmiths could yet claim the sugargliders' crown: we know that some of you think they have already, but hey! let's not argue, especially as we were introduced so recently...  --In Love With These Times

The Lucksmiths remind me of times slipping away listening to, oh, The Visitors, The Church Grims, Close Lobsters, Felt, The Go-Betweens and later, Trashcan Sinatras. Not that Lucksmiths really sound much like any one of those bands, except maybe the Trashcan Sinatras, to whom to me they seem most closely related. Instead, they conjure fragments of all of them, kind of a collage of jangling guitars that have a fine tension and a great space between their good vibrations, a Felt-like organ floating behind the finest of simple melodies, a bass that carries its own tune, not unlike Robert Vickers', two great songwriters who have their own signature style... It's all evidenced gloriously on their Why That Doesn't Surprise Me album of 2001, a record that has steadily grown on me to the point that I currently can barely switch it off. It's also captured on a new collection on Matinée / Candle. Where Were We? Is an 'assortment of recordings from 1999-2001' and includes single tracks alongside various compilation appearances. It's a truly delicious collection too, with a myriad of heady heights. There's the exquisite opener 'Cassingle Revival', which is as perfect a hymn for a lost summer love as any you're going to find anywhere, anytime, and for a line like 'I spent this afternoon nostalgic for this morning' it's something to treasure for all time. 'I Prefer The Twentieth Century' is an equally fine moment. There's great swirls of organ and assorted unidentified noises going on in this one, lurking behind a tugging bass, whilst the knowingly self-deprecating ending of 'I know the picture that I paint is not too pretty: self portrait up to elbows in self pity' is so hilariously biting and empathetic you don't know whether to die laughing or crying. 'T-Shirt Weather' meanwhile is, oh, one of those songs you stick on when the sun shines for the first time in what feels like an age and you feel almost invincible in the new warmth. This is one of those songs that hark back to when some people used to write about endless summers and filled their songs with 'ba-ba-bas', and whilst there are actually very few of those on this song, hell, they're there in spirit in spades. Then there's 'Tmrw vs Y'day' which I heard for the first time on my headphones whilst kneeling on the beach to photograph a piece of paper that said 'all, or nothing at all.' The lines 'the lessons learned and the bridges burned - these things hurt, these things happen anyway' ring in my head and I swear bring me close to tears, not for any good reason other than they capture the understanding that feelings, moments, raw nerves, they transcend geography... transcend time. And nothing captures that better than great, pure Pop like this. Best of all though is the yearning demo for 'The Great Dividing Range'. With added strings it's undoubtedly the highlight of Why That Doesn't Surprise Me, and here, with just guitar and bass accompanying Tali White's beautifully laconic vocal, it's just as special. I swear you won't ever find a better song about those natural Pop staples Love, longing and distance, either lyrically or sonically. 'The Great Dividing Range' is one of those songs that will nestle down deep in your heart and set up camp. It's there for the duration. Just like The Lucksmiths.  --Tangents

The Lucksmiths may be my favorite Australian band. Their brand of light, playful pop in undeniably catchy and sweet without being too sugary, a trap that many indie-pop bands fall into. ... Focused around Tali White's ultra-pleasant vocals and light drumming, the band incorporates keyboards, acoustic and electric guitar, and other instruments without overloading their songs, maintaining a light and airy song. Sounding, perhaps, more akin to your British and Scottish pop stars, they still have something of a laid-back Australian quality to their music. The songs here range from the up-tempo, playful pop of the Belle & Sebastian-like rocker "Myopic Friends" to the simple acoustic ballad of "A Downside to the Upstairs," which is mostly acoustic guitar and White's voice but adds some sweet electric guitar and harmonica. They do get a bit carried away with the organs and keyboards at times, as many indie-pop bands do, especially on the opener, "The Cassingle Revival," and the church-like "Southernmost." They show off their folk roots on the mostly acoustic "Friendless Summer" and get a bit experimental with muffled vocals and echoey guitars on the quiet and dreamy "Mars." One of my favorite songs is the simplistic "I Prefer the Twentieth Century," with its light keyboards, acoustic guitar, and melancholy vocals. The fan-favorite "T-shirt Weather" is here as well, and this is undeniably one of their best pop tunes, up-tempo and sweet. A bit more fleshed out than the other songs here, "Even Stevens" has a decidedly retro-pop feel, complete with hand-claps, that's infectious as hell. "Goodness Gracious," on the other hand, shows off the melancholy sweet side of the band, as they begin with "what a beautiful day for a crushing defeat" and go into a quiet, more laid-back acoustic song. There's no denying the talent of this Australian pop band, and even on their worst songs, you can't help but bob along and smile. Still, what this look back shows is how far the band has come, and it makes me eager to listen to Why That Doesn't Surprise Me or their forthcoming album.  --Delusions Of Adequacy

When it comes to pop music, few bands come close to the Lucksmiths. Instead of fiddling around with ostentatious production and 21st century delusions of progress, the trio of Marty Donald, Tali White and Mark Mannone unabashedly stick to the basics. Few bands can afford such complacency, but anything the Lucksmiths sing turns into, at the worst, an endearing B-side, and the best, a timeless classic. Their penchant for witty rhyme schemes and double entendre will always secure the group a spot at the podium of pop music, especially considering their genre's inherent redundancy. In a way, the group's new record Where Were We? is a bit redundant; like their 1999 compilation Happy Secret, Where Were We? is a collection of past recordings that many Lucksmith fans may already have in their collection. Regardless, as a formal release, the album deserves consideration as entity in itself... The songs were recorded around the world from 1999 thru 2001 and sound more like the hi-fi Why That Doesn't Surprise Me from 2001 than their earlier stripped-down Candle recordings. There are some literary gems, like "T'mrw vs. Y'day," a nostalgic glimpse into life in a small town, and "Southernmost" (which shouldn't really count, since it was on Happy Secret), a lazy summertime trip to the coast "Where the sky was swimming-pool blue / and the swimming pool was too." The wit is released in full force on "Even Stevens," a collaboration with the Ladybug Transistor in which White sings of a couple engaged in a seven-year battle of Scrabble. "I know it's a consequence of clinging to consonants / but PLL and QSC spells trouble to me." Donald's ability to tell so much with so little has been compared to Raymond Carver's short stories and deservedly so. "The Great Dividing Range," a demo from Why That Doesn't Surprise Me recording session, fits a trans-ocean love story into 3:18 and even pokes fun at its romanticism, ending with "But let's not get metaphysical." While I prefer their 20th century as well, Where Were We? is a pleasant distraction to the trouble and trials of the 21st.  --Dusted Magazine

These guys are prolific, continuing their lo-fi career into America this time around. From Melbourne, the band have consistently recorded and toured all over the place to their heart's content. Never really having had a hit, The Lucksmith's rely on their loyal fan base and the ability to rub shoulders with suitable headliners. On their last tour in The States Jonathon Richman took a liking to them and invited them to support him at more shows. You can see why Richman would love this band. There is the humour, clangy guitars and cheesy yet clever moments. It's all there. Myopic Friends has all the hallmarks of a perfect Lucksmith's tune, funny lyrics, bouncy beat and that irrepressible chorus. This album has one of the most beautiful cover artwork scenes. The digipak has pictures taken on their overseas sojourn and it all looks remarkable and most suitable. Definitely a nice international flavour to it. Some of the best moments include Can't Believe My Eyes and T-Shirt Weather both cute and nicely simple in the production stakes. Fans will love this album even though it lacks some of the varied songs and performances apparent on previous releases. There is a certain sameness here that perhaps reflects the album's in part demo nature. The wonderfully titled I Prefer The Twentieth Century is better with its dynamics more obvious and a nice bass sound carrying the melody. The band still carry the University band trademarks as well as a certain 'who cares' approach which does them no harm other than possibly cutting them off from a larger audience. Where Were We is a well-structured album with a great cover. Look out for a canoe drifting through the L section of your local record store. The Lucksmiths will appear at a venue near you soon.  --Drum Media

Australia's Lucksmiths released their second rarities disc, Where Were We?, in early 2002. The disc was released on Matinée Recordings in the United States. Having released a collection of their early singles in 1999 on Happy Secret, the band compiled another batch of demos, compilation tracks, and outtakes three years later. The trio's acclaimed style of simple and broken-down indie pop continued to make waves around the globe. The disc begins with "The Cassingle Revival," an earnest, Casio-based track with Tali White's clean vocals sailing over the shimmering instrumentation. "A Downside to the Upstairs" is simpler and more subdued than most of the band's songs. The alternate version of "Southernmost" from Happy Secret includes a new jazzy organ line. The next song, "Even Stevens," is classic Lucksmiths, incorporating amiable tones and quick turns of phrase. The demo of "The Great Dividing Range" has an undeniable campy feel, while the gentle harmonies on "Friendless Summer" hide the song's melancholia. The sped-up bossa nova sounds on "Welcome Home" include White's graceful vocals and Marty Donald's colorful guitar work. The album-closer, "Mars," is easily the most startling and breathtaking track on the disc. The gentle guitar line, blended with White's distorted vocals, creates a relaxed yet intense mood throughout. The song is certainly more adventurous and blissful than the average Lucksmiths song. Darren Hanlon guests on organ and piano on various tracks. The songs on Where Were We? were recorded in Australia, England, and America from 1999 through 2001.  --All Music Guide

The Lucksmiths is an Australian based indie-band comprised of Marty Donald, Tali White and Mark Monnone. Their current offering is Where Were We? a fourteen-track album that contains previously released Lucksmiths material taken from singles, various compilations, and some demo tapes. For those who are unfamiliar with the band, well, this is a good place to start. Where Were We? is oozing with sunshine. Not that they get more than enough down under, but I guess it affects the melodies of their music - often which sounds fey and just sensitive. But I guess, that's what gets to me. I really like simple songs. More so when vocals sounds like they are just about cry - and Tali White does just that. And, hey he plays the drums too. At the onset, one may get turned off listening to these simple songs. But that is actually the challenging part of it all. The Lucksmiths grow on you - which is, to my opinon, so much better than instant coffee. Highlights of the album include The Cassingle Revival - the track opener that sets the mood. It has beautiful organ grooves from Darren Hanlon. Pam Berry on the other hand, lends her haunting vocals to A Downside To The Upstairs. I swear, there must be something mystical about Pam's vocals as I get to coincidentally like a track with her voice on the foreground or the background. Also, there are more upbeat tunes to get you going like, Can't Believe My Eyes, Myopic Friends and my favorite, T-shirt Weather. Try playing it on a bright and shiny morning. I'm sure the effect would do you wonders. Other tracks I also like are I Prefer The Twentieth Century and the sad Friendless Summer "There's only me to blame but I'm lonely all the same" I read from somewhere that The Lucksmiths are working on a new album and are supporting the likes of The Go-Betweens and The Pernice Brothers. Wow, I wish I could get to see that. But right now, Where Were We?.  --Pinoy Central

Collections of B-sides and compilation tracks, such as Where Were We?, can often be less than essential for anyone but dedicated fans of a band -- and, in their cases, the really dedicated ones probably have all those tracks already, in their original formats. Sometimes, though, a "B-sides and oddities" disc can be a pleasant sampler for listeners who just want a taste of what a band does when it's not busy making album-sized statements -- when it's just making little self-contained songs. For those who aren't familiar with the Lucksmiths (beyond the basic knowledge that they're quite Australian and rather twee), this is a refreshing little sampler of what they've been doing so far and what they're about. You can listen to a few self-contained songs here and there, appreciating the energetic strumming and occasional melodica and piano interludes now. Then, later, you can listen again and be pulled into the lyrics' gleeful wordplay, into what feels like a witty grad-student campfire sing-along. Everyone sways to wistful little pop songs about girls and awkwardness and uncertainty, accompanied by simple acoustic guitar, bass and drums, breaking every so often for walks in the park and friendly games of Scrabble. It's a fun way to get acquainted the Lucksmiths, without having to get to know them on the larger scale.  --Splendid

They must be putting something into the water down-under. There are so many Australian artists making great records, which, thankfully, are making their way abroad. One thing these bands and artists have in common is an ear for melodies and a talent for capturing the pop/rock sound perfectly, sometimes with just the right dose of country thrown in for good measure. The Lucksmiths, a Melbourne based trio, have been releasing records of quality melodic pop songs since 1993. Last year's 'Why That Doesn't Surprise Me' was their best to date, seemingly capturing the band at their peak, and, chock full of their trademark catchy tunes, coupled this with smart but humorous lyrics. So how do they follow that? Well, they haven't really, not yet anyway, and not with this album. 'Where Were We?' is a collection of tracks from various compilations, vinyl singles, demo tapes and songs that, until now, have not made it onto an album. It compiles all the loose ends from the last two years. These songs are, however, far from being throwaway B-sides or songs best left forgotten though. Despite the songs being recorded in various places, England, America and Australia, and at different times, the songs on the album fit perfectly together. It sounds like, well, an album, where all the songs were intended to be grouped together. Very much in fact like their 'Happy Secret' collection from 1999. Only one track, the closing 'Mars', disappoints and considering that the vocals were recorded down a telephone line from London to the house where it was being made in Australia it's hardly surprising. Interesting as it is to hear tracks in their demo form or as 'works in progress', a better produced version of that track would have been nice to hear. But it's a minor quibble as presenting these tracks as they are was the intention of the album anyway. Tellingly, Jonathan Richman showed his fondness for the band during their last tour of the States and they wound up supporting him for some shows. It's obvious what attracted Richman to the Lucksmiths. They share his ability to pen catchy pop songs with that indie feel. But where The Lucksmiths really excel is in the knack they have of combining humour into their thoughtful lyrics. The core trio of Marty Donald (guitar and vocals), Tali White, (vocals and drums) and Mark Monnone (bass) is helped out by Pam Berry (Black Tambourines, The Shapiros and The Pines) on backing vocals and the glorious Ladybug Transistor on one track. Elsewhere Darren Hanlon, who also helped out on 'Why That Doesn't Surprise Me', lends hand on piano and organ. The album opens with 'The Cassingle Revival', which features the aforementioned Hanlon on organ and some nice but all too brief slide guitar by one J. Walker. It's a typical slice of thoughtful indie pop and a perfect start to the collection, setting out their stall nicely. Apart from the expected catchy melody, it's the opening line of, "Another summer's slipped away, without me noticing", with Tali White's vocals at their forlorn, affecting best which captures the attention. Their way with a clever lyric laced with humour is also evident in this first track. How many break- up songs end with a verse like this; "And your loyalties have divided between digital and vinyl, but I'm biding time 'til the cassingle revival, 'cause you promised when it happens you'll return"? Then we get the touches of organ and steel guitar to add to the heartbreak. You can tell in White's vocals that he thinks it's going to be a long, long time before we see singles on tape again. The following track, 'Myopic Friends', is a bouncy song with the Lucksmiths expected catchy tune and funny lyrics, this time with Mark Monnone adding some melodica to the song to make it even more appealing. The track where Pam Berry contributes backing vocals, 'A Downside To The Upstairs', is possibly the best track on this collection. Pam's haunting vocals add a further dimension to the song as does the harmonica played by Tali White, lifting the song above being an average indie pop song. And so it goes on, track after track of glorious catchy pop music topped with humourous but thoughtful lyrics. Fourteen of them, each one (with the exception of 'Mars') worthy of repeated playing. 'T-shirt Weather' for example sounds as a song should with a title like that.-a summery pop song which bounces along with lines like, " 'Maggie May' on the jukebox and, hey, things are okay", raising a smile. An uplifting sing-a-long tune, it sounds like Morrissey fronting a band made up of ex-Housemartins and Monkees; Mention should also be made of the digipak which houses the C.D. Featuring artwork with photos taken during their recent USA travels it compliments the music beautifully. But is that really someone sleeping in the canoe?  --Pennyblack

And if I'm tempted to wish Beat Surf Fun had been done differently, a little more breathy than precisely boyish, perhaps, or less frightened to admit to melancholy, then I'm talked out of it by the Lucksmiths' small, quiet collection of stray singles and compilation tracks, Where Were We?, not because this is the record I would have asked for and it's awful, but because this is the record I would have asked for and now I have one. Whatever I could want Tullycraft to be, instead, somebody already is, so why shouldn't Tullycraft stay themselves? I've heard about half of these songs before, but scattered in ones and two across various releases they never seemed very memorable to me. Collected this way, though, they seem to underscore and support each other for me, as if all the singles lacked was critical mass. These are such small songs, maybe, nearsighted and so easily lost. They band together for warmth, and call to each other to navigate. The Lucksmiths' answer to "Twee", I think, is "The Cassingle Revival", taking the Sarah-Records mix-tape one step further into an imaginary universe in which official releases are just as humble. A keyboard whistles, acoustic guitars rustle, brushed drums patter. "Myopic Friends" is faster, but sketchier, like the Housemartins channeling the Proclaimers. "A Downside to the Upstairs" settles into a Simon and Garfunkel hush, even the bass line assuming a mid-Sixties bubbliness. Tali's singing voice falls between Paul's and Art's, but Pam Berry's delicate harmony is about the right distance past Art's falsetto for the combination to work out, especially when they sing about seasons and weather. "Can't Believe My Eyes" leans towards lilt, and in other hands I can imagine it becoming anything from a Jonathan Richman stomp to Murmur-era REM. The tracks are organized by origin, and maybe even in chronological order, so it's a stretch to ascribe any importance to the running order, but it turns out that knowing that doesn't keep me from perceiving a flow and structure. "Can't Believe My Eyes" feels like a quarter-stop, to me, and another section begins with the springy, cycling, wistful "I Prefer the Twentieth Century". A fibrous kick-snare groove adds hi-hats on the downbeats, as if somebody just read a Mix article about Motown, but the folky guitars and drony keyboards refuse to participate in any kind of aggrandizement. Isn't complaining about the century, so soon, an entry in the same catalog of maudlin woes as Morrissey fantasizing about bus-crashes? "T-Shirt Weather" is the Lucksmiths' version of a party anthem, and listening to them ease through it on borrowed instruments that could just as well be the surfaces of laundromat appliances, a part of me is trying to imagine what it would sound like rearranged for Britney or the Spice Girls. I'm not sure about the lyrics, but musically, it's ready, and for a moment I'm blissfully adrift in what the chart-pop world could be if there were only enough Lucksmiths to be Eloi to the hordes of Morlock Max Martins. "A town without a football team", Tali says pityingly in "Tmrw vs Y'day", and in a supposedly-great country full of towns without soccer teams, it's easy to see how nearly anybody can find a way to feel sorry for nearly anybody else. I can't decide whether I think this version of "Southernmost" is the end of that section or the beginning of the next one, but clearly by the angular chord-leaps and organ bleats of "Even Stevens" (which ought to have been called "Seven Years of Scrabble", but then they'd have to worry about trademarks) we're into something else. The demo of "The Great Dividing Range" is too slow and lost in too large a space, I think, and "Friendless Summer" tries to force a few too many multi-line rhymes. A bass groan on "Goodness Gracious" doesn't seem to know its place, but the arching melody pulls the song along like it's dangling from talons. And although "Welcome Home" opens with some throwaway mock-jazz chords, and twitters on about the weather and superficial nostalgia without ever mustering much more gravitas, the little backing-vocal echoes of "Welcome home" are just sincere enough for the contrast to feel a little touching. And the squashed vocal processing on "Mars" is a self-unimportantly low-fi touch I normally think of the Lucksmiths as knowing better than, but the music underneath is the set's strangest, laced with plinky banjos and odd humming noises ("Tibetan singing bowl", the credits claim, but maybe that's just an overly literal translation of the Tibetan term for "cello"). Drums arrive just in time to go away again, and as my changer clicks I realize that in a way the whole album has arrived just in time to go away again. I don't know what these songs have accomplished, and I doubt I could isolate any tangible way they've improved me, yet I persist in believing it's happened. Tullycraft are defiant, and the Lucksmiths are demure, but these are tactical deployments of the same fundamental defense mechanism. Music like this stipulates an upper bound on its own power, and maybe it doesn't do it intentionally or exclusively to preempt criticism, but I have a hard time believing these people aren't aware of the effect, and if so, it's their decision to let it obtain. This isn't even an album, it's just a kindness for fans with sprained completeness flexors. But maybe this music knows that. Left to their own devices, these songs have catalogued and sequenced themselves. Not only do we not always know what we've achieved, we don't even always know what we're doing. We write songs and take steps, because songs and steps are within our ken. Maybe they will not combine. Maybe the only way to make steps into a journey is to know, all along, where you're going. But I doubt that. We so seldom know where we're going, yet we so often find ourselves somewhere new. We fall, again and again, into traps, and escape so reliably that we'd never believe our own lives as movies. They are at once too big and too small. They lack grandeur, and sometimes badly, but grandeurs are our wishful shortcuts, and we know better. We build houses were we dream of towers, and walk paths over which we dream of soaring wings. We dream of kissing. We are content, both in dreams and awake, with such tiny fractions of what is possible. But we are right. Houses are right, paths are right. When we kiss, we are people. This is our gift, I'm suggesting, not our curse. These songs are so simple, we could fill the oceans with them. There are enough perfect instants to drown us; but enough too, if we hold still and let them, to bear us up.  --The War Against Silence

As a closeted pop geek, I'm amazed I made it this long without hearing Australia's The Lucksmiths. The first listen to this collection of b-sides and compilation tracks alerted me to the existence of these top tier pop dears. The songwriting is split between guitarist Marty Donald and lead vocalist/drummer Tali White, whose sweet plaintive voice makes the cardigan sweater, bobby socks wearing shy girl in me melt. With lines such as "Even when the evenings aren't so shitty/I can't see any stars because I'm too close to the city/True, I'm looking forward to the advent of space tourism/But for now I'm merely bored/And as a matter of fact, who isn't" from "I Prefer The Twentieth Century," how can anyone resist the twee? Mark Monnone's bass leads the jangling guitars with super catchy hooks on song after song: "T-Shirt Weather," "Friendless Summer," and "The Great Dividing Range" have that perfect pop sensibility, that internal logic that makes you say, "Of course! It's obvious!" because they make it evident. Reel me in, flay and fry me, I'm caught.  --The Big Takeover

The Lucksmiths have a knack of making every bit of the day seem like Sunday afternoon. Perhaps it's the lazy-chair contentedness evoked by their leisurely-paced insular moments, or the fact that their plucky acoustic pop can have a sunniness brighter than a Fauves color scheme. Maybe it's the mention of football scarves ("Goodness Gracious") and sleeping on the mattress on a sibling's floor ("Great Dividing Range"), or titles such as "T-shirt Weather" and "Welcome Home." In any case, this compilation of assorted non-album recordings features a tidy set of pert-and-introspective melodies. While the Lucksmiths' overall sound has been beamingly upbeat (to the point it can seem rather unhealthy for anyone to sound this cheery), their mood has turned inward of late. So for someone who has traditionally viewed them as diplomats from the "Instant Remedy for Glumness" School of Pop, the contemplative direction has been a surprise. When I saw the Lucksmiths support the Pernice Bros., the local band decided to ready us up for the moody Pernice combo by spotlighting the pensive, unhurried tunes in their own repertoire (instead of playing their trademark sprightly pop). They dubbed this their "toast and honey" set, and it seems an apt tag for such sleepy-paced melodies. In fact, the Lucksmiths seem to sum themselves up better than anyone else; at another show, they defined their tunes as "music to hold hands to" (which also happens to be the name of a song on their last album, Why Doesn't That Surprise Me). The endearing and twee nature of their music is also reflected in their subject matter (the first song, with its lukewarm organ peals and gentle acoustic clashes, is titled "The Cassingle Revival") and their wordplay. There's "Friendless Summer," rounded out with tumbling bass, easeful guitars and that pop stock-in-trade, the innocuously chanted doo-doo-doo-doo. The demo for "Great Dividing Range" (the gussied-up, proper version is on the previous album) has vocalist Tali White intoning about the bookmark he's left in an atlas for a girlfriend and musing, in general, about the difficulty of distances; "Tmrw vs Y'day" has the line, "an afternoon in the country/ was all that I was after/ If I can't see you in the future/ then I'll see you in the pasture." It's a simple little charmer and, well, what else do you expect from a band who once named a song "Edward Sandwich Hand"?  --Neumu

A compilation of the moments not collected on the last album and not collected on, ern, the last compilation. Funny thing that like Stereolab the Lucksmiths best albums tend, albeit by the slightest of margins, to be the compilations of the odds and bobs. Most of the songs here are slowies, I had heard roughly half before getting this cd including the marvelous 'Cassingle Revival' which has one of my favourite metaphors for the pining over lost love ever and that leaves half a cd's worth of surprises. There is the collaboration with the Ladybug Transistor recorded for East Timorese poor which is rather sprightly and spontaneity-led and also included is the last "tour-only" single which seems to be readily available nearly everywhere I look, oh, dear me, there is another. And yet I can't find the Starlets album anywhere! And a few other things appear from obscurity like a nice demo for 'The Great Dividing Range' which shows that the string section that makes the album version gorgeous is mostly just icing on the cupcake that the heart of the song is in Marty Donald's emotional outreach and a couple of unreleased numbers including one with some spacey moments that seem very un-Lucksmiths like and are the more compelling for it. Actually, recently and lately I have been digging into the Lucksmiths past, they have a strange history, from my listening excursions they seem to have started out as an endearing, clever, frenetic Housemartinsy pop band who then started to take themselves too seriously, perhaps, and wrote a bunch of middling mid-tempo nonsense about western states and architecture then they righted the boat when they discovered much love from abroad and have turned into a romantic, croonerish sort of laser beam with the perfect pun for ever pop moment. They don't use the 'shoobie-doobie-doos' like they used to, though and the tears I cry at their absence are very real, and they don't let Marty sing even though he sounds like he just escaped from The Man From Delmonte and shines quite smashingly in his previous vocal adventures ... this is indeed, then, a grand collection.  --Twee Kitten

Hasta la salida de una secuela a "Why that doesn't surprise me" (2001), disco difícil de prolongar, de perfeccionar, The Lucksmiths nos regalan un volumen recopilatorio que, como el ya legendario "Happy Secret" (99), recoge extractos de singles y compilaciones. Además de corroborar la eficacia del trío australiano a la hora de fabricar pop acústico con estribillos a la vez familiares y mágicos, el disco depara curiosidades: colaboraciones con Pam Berry ("A downside to the upstairs") y The Ladybug Transistor (en "Even stevens", con un alias tan gracioso como The Lucky Ladybugs), la casi bailable "T-shirt weather" y, atención, una maqueta en plan slowcore de la pasmosa "The great dividing range" (seguramente, lo más cerca que The Lucksmiths hayan estado nunca de sus queridos The Smiths). Delicadas, clásicas y siempre tímidas, casi autistas, estas catorce miniaturas no abren puertas a nada, pero atestiguan la capacidad de una (simple) melodía para sosegar agobios: acérquense y refúgiense.  --Rock de Lux Magazine

La terra dei canguri e di Kylie Minogue, nonché di Art Of Fighting, Cat's Miaow e Sodastream, è anche la patria della Candle Records, che qualche anno fa guadagnò un po' di visibilità proprio con un EP di questi ultimi. I Lucksmiths sono la risposta australiana ai Belle & Sebastian: twee-pop influenzato tanto dagli scozzesini quanto da Heavenly e Go-Betweens e questo disco è una raccolta di singoli, EP e pezzi da compilation di questa più che prolifica band (sei album all'attivo). Where Were We? resta l'unica occasione per ascoltare su CD gioiellini come T-Shirt Wheater o Even Steven, scritta in collaborazione con i cuginetti, musicalmente parlando, Ladybug Transistor. Un disco umile, tenero e discreto, come sono loro stessi, del resto.  --Sodapop

Sicuramente uno dei dischi più belli in catalogo. "Where Were We?" raccoglie quattordici splendide tracce (di cui sei inedite negli Usa e una completamente nuova in cui figura anche la leggenda dell'indie Pam Berry) uscite negli ultimi tre anni soltanto su vari singoli e compilation. Motivetti fluidi e carezzevoli che rivelano una grande abilità in fatto di songwriting (T-Shirt Weather e Friendless Summer vanno oltre la perfezione) e una sensibilità melodica profonda e davvero toccante (riascoltare Southernmost o The Great Dividing Range due volte di seguito potrebbe far male al cuore) espressa tramite l'uso di strumentazione tradizionale. Il referente più immediato sono sicuramente gli Housemartins, o I Belle & Sebastian negli episodi più soffici, e l'intera collezione emana un alone sixties da 'oldies but goldies' senza tempo. Ogni canzone è davvero un gioiello a sé.  --Kathodik

Hierzulande kann man mit dem Namen The Lucksmiths nicht gerade viel anfangen, es sei denn man war als Zuschauer bei einem ihrer 5 (?) Konzerte, die sie in Deutschland gegeben haben, oder man ist Australier, denn von dort kommt das Trio. Eigentlich schade, dass keine deutsche Plattenfirma die 3 unter ihre Fittiche nimmt, obwohl Marty Donald, Tali White und Mark Monnone eine wirklich klasse Band abgeben, deren Musik irgendwo zwischen Billy Bragg und den Housemartins anzusiedeln ist. "Where Were We?" ist eine Zusammenstellung mit Aufnahmen, die zwischen 1999 und 2001 eingespielt worden sind. Darunter befinden sich dann Stücke wie "Myopic Friends" oder "I Prefer The Twentieth Century", die auf jede gute Pop-Compilation passen würde.  --Britpop Arsenal

"Lucksmith" es un juego de palabras entre "locksmith" (el equivalente inglésa "cerrajero") junto a "luck" y "smith", las palabras que designan ese concepto que no buscamos pero que nos encanta encontrarnos y ese apellido que Manchester convirtió en mito. De todos modos, debemos trasladarnos a Australia, donde los Lucksmiths practican ese pop que engancha, recuerdas fácilmente y dibuja una sonrisa bien amplia en tu rostro. "Where were we" es una recopilación canciones perdidas en recopilatorios, Eps y singles diversos, lo que explica que el sonido de alguna de las canciones sea algo simple. De todos modos, como ya demostraron en"Happy secret" (otro disco que recopilaba rarezas), miman todas sus canciones para que el resultado sea muy digno, entrañable y a ratos especial. Bucean entre los primeros Orchids, visitan a sus vecinos Sodastream, juegan a ser unos Beach Boys de juguete o dejan caer toques de folk, pero siempre con modestia y buen gusto. Los acabados más cuidados los encontraréis en sus discos oficiales (los magníficos "why that doesn't surprise me"o "staring at the sky"), pero aquí tenéis esa compañía que resulta tan agradable, con momentos como "Can't believe my eyes", "The cassingle revival" o el intimismo de "Mars". Muy recomendable.  --Popchild

Nogle plader egner sig bedst til at blive hørt på helt bestemte tidspunkter. Rent følelsesmæssigt, i forbindelse med en bestemt årstid eller på et bestemt tidspunkt af døgnet. Nogle plader skal bare høres om sommeren, når det er varmt og himlen er skyfri. En sådan plade er The Lucksmiths nyeste udgivelse, Where Were We?, en opsamling af sjældne numre fra diverse mindre opsamlinger og 7" singler. Pladen åbner godt med The Cassingle Revival, en fortræffelig popsang der lyder som den skal, når man hedder Lucksmiths: tilbagelænet og afslappet, men ekstremt iørefaldende og forbandet charmerende. Og på trods af den afslappede attitude må The Cassingle Revival også kunne få de fleste op af stolen og ud på dansegulvet, da den faktisk er utroligt dansabel. De efterfølgende numre, især Myopic Friends, Can't Believe My Eyes og T-Shirt Weather er lige så iørefaldende som åbningsnummeret, om ikke mere. Og det er svært ikke at nynne med, for mange af numrene er som skabt til at blive hørt mens solen skinner og man bare slumrer i græsset og kigger op mod himlen. Det melankolske element i Lucksmiths' musik er dog ikke langt væk hvilket særligt kommer til udtryk i Southernmost, I Prefer The Twentieth Century, Friendless Summer og den flotte kærlighedssang The Great Dividing Range der passer perfekt til den demo-form den stadig befinder sig Men pladens absolutte højdepunkt er det smukke afslutningsnummer Mars der i sammenligning med "den normale Lucksmiths-sang" næsten er dyster og også byder på mere utraditionelle instrumenter som banjo, "Tibetan singing bowl" og pumpeorgel. Derudover er forsanger Tali Whites stemme optaget over telefonen hvilket giver sangen en helt speciel længselsfuld klang som teksten også afspejler. "I think about you every day", slutter White pladen af med, og man kan ikke andet end at tro ham. At jeg ikke har opdaget The Lucksmiths for længe siden, kan jeg kun ærgre mig over, for i den seneste tid har Where Were We? siddet fast i min cd-afspiller og det ser ikke ud til at den bliver taget ud lige med det samme.  --Murmur

Where Were We? is natuurlijk gewoon een leuke alliteratie, maar je zou de titel ook letterlijk kunnen nemen. Want: waar waren wij de afgelopen jaren, toen The Lucksmiths al die leuke singles uitbrachten, die nu op deze CD zijn verzameld? Waar waren wij, toen het Australische trio in eigen land en de VS wel enige voet aan de grond kreeg en daar regelmatig de nieuwe Belle & Sebastian werd genoemd. En niet eens ten onrechte, want ook The Lucksmiths maken mooie, lieve popliedjes, iets meer gewone pop en ook iets frisser dan de Schotten die toch vaak wat orchestraals hebben, maar zeker net zo goed. Een absolute aanrader dus! Martijn Grooten,  --Think Small

No acierto a recordar ni el dónde ni el quién, pero recuerdo haber leído sostener que la creación de un músico depende fundamentalmente de lo que hay asimilado y digerido en la adolescencia. Por muchos sonidos que luego haya podido escuchar en otras edades, esas serán las coordenadas de su obra y con las que siempre, consciente o inconscientemente, mantendrá un vínculo de dependencia. Se cierta o no tal teoría la verdad es que grupos como los LUCKSMITHS se ciñen perfectamente al patrón fijado en ella con la mayor fidelidad posible. Australianos y con ya 7 lp's a sus espaldas, el trío formado por Mart Donald ( voz y guitarra), Tali White (batería) y Mark Monnone ( bajo) suena y resuena a lo que se intuye fue la banda sonora de sus diecitantos años. A saber, The Smiths, Housemartins, Close Lobsters, Macharthy, Weekend, Go-Beetweens, Prefab Sprout, Frank & Walters, Field Mice, Sea Urchins,...etc...o lo que es lo mismo indie pop de canciones como soles, cuerpos de delgada y blanca palidez, camisetas a rayas y flequillos descuidadamente cuidados. Este disco, ideal para adentrarse dentro de la discografía del grupo, se trata de una recopilación de singles y canciones perdidas recogidas de los numerosos recopilatorios en los que LUCKSMITHS han participado. Y hay un poco de todo, radiantes y energéticos himnos pop ("T-shirt weather", "Can't belive my eyes" o "Myopic"), medios tiempos de gusto exquisito ("Tmrw vs Y'day", o "Friendless Summer") , alguna que otra estampa acústica beatleniana ("Mars") e inevitables invocaciones directas al espíritu de Sarah Records ( "The cassingle", " I prefer the twentieh century") hechas por uno de esos grupos que obligan a que la palabra pop se escriba en letra pequeña y se pronuncie en voz baja, como si no quisiese molestar y gustará a todos los que, de cuando en cuando, aún releen aquellos preciosos fanzines de los primeros 90 como "Diuk", "La Línea del Arco", "El Origen" o "Soy tan feliz que me cortaría las venas" tan llenos de amor por el pop, las melodías y las cosas pequeñitas. Ni más ni, por supuesto, menos.  --Feedback Zine