Idolator

Just like any culture, the people of Great Britain sometimes make faulty assumptions. Beer is tastier warm, Cliff Richard is an acceptable substitute for Elvis, the filmmaking career of Guy Ritchie should be encouraged—hey, we're all victims of our occasionally blinded perceptions, but an error made in the Guardian last week merits immediate correction. Residents of the United Kingdom, please note: We don't like Aqualung here.

First of all, let's clarify: This isn't a discussion of the Jethro Tull album. (I'm not saying we're crazy about the Tull either, but we don't have many flute-heavy rock acts in the US; it's OK for us to import one.) No, we're talking about the sensitive ivory-tinkling guys, a subgenre that our country is a little overstocked with at the moment. Or have you not noticed that Keane's not quite the sensation here as it is on your side of the Atlantic?

A few troubling sections of the Aqualung profile:

Aqualung have bucked the trend for under-achieving British acts by selling several hundred thousand albums and becoming darlings of the cool celebrity crowd: Michael Stipe came backstage for "a nice chat" at another recent show.

Stipe goes backstage at Joseph Arthur shows, too. It's a nice little moment to save for the scrapbook, but it's not likely to guarantee any sort of success here.

In May 2004, Hales and his band made their first trip to the US. "We arrived to find something surprising was already afoot. There was a weird groundswell of activity around Aqualung. Some influential DJs had been playing Strange and Beautiful, and it was getting used on funky TV shows like The OC. We did a few small headline shows in cities I'd never even been to and they were all sold out." The crowds contained the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio. "We'd become inadvertently cool," says Hales, still sounding surprised.

Everyone's had their music featured on The O.C. It's not that big of a deal anymore. A guy I know whistled in the shower yesterday, and the tune was purchased to be used on a very special "car accident" episode of One Tree Hill. Then Nic Harcourt called him in for an appearance on "Morning Becomes Eclectic."

The US label were right to be confident. In the UK, the anthemic first single from Aqualung's second album, Brighter Than Sunshine, had limped to No 37. In the US, the song became a hit. Aqualung gathered pace in the US throughout 2005, playing to growing crowds and eventually shifting more than 300,000 copies of the album. "And the success was real," says Hales. "It wasn't artificially accelerated by an ad or anything. We just went, worked really hard, they liked our music and we sold records. It's the definition of vindication."

300,000 copies of an album isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it's not a measure of being particularly well-known across the States. The RIAA just gave a gold record to tobyMac, and I don't even think the people who bought his disc know who that guy is.

Certainly, we as Americans enjoy the musical trade relationship we've enjoyed with your country. When you guys get the new Beatles going over there, let us know (note: Razorlight doesn't count). Until then, you chaps can have Aqualung back. We're trying to keep some of our jobs in American hands, even if those hands belong to that guy from The Fray.

Beetle Mania [The Guardian]