Sunta Says: It’s Confession Time
I have a confession; I’m bored of beeps. There, I said it. It’s not a popular point of view I’m sure and it’s not that I haven’t loved the raft of electrosynth bands which have been breaking through over the last 12 months but I’ve been feeling like I’m missing something from my life. I worked out what that gap was when I went to see The Black Keys play at Brixton last week; I’d been missing some good, old-fashioned, dirty rock and roll. I left that gig feeling nourished in a way I hadn’t felt for a while.
In a work meeting this week one of our top management claimed we are in the longest deepest pop period he can remember since the 1970s. He may have a good point. A recent much talked about BBC article questioned the lack of guitar bands breaking through in 2010 and suggested it could be because all the good riffs are gone. There’s just nothing new to write anymore. It’s safe to say as new bands look to their immediate influences, the ’80s are still a prevalent theme, with that penchant for synths and electric drum kits. A new band I saw recently – arty Brighton 3-piece, Mirrors – at times during the set could have passed for a Spandau Ballet covers band circa 1986.
I don’t think I’m alone in my desire for something dirtier-sounding. Mona are the next big thing from Nashville who are getting the music industry excited. Meanwhile the hype around The Vaccines is still growing (lets hope not to a point where they can only fail). First single Wreckin’ Bar (Ra Ra Ra) is one minute twenty seconds of round the back of the bike shed excitement. They’ve mastered the quickie and I’m looking forward to finding out if they can deliver a longer night of passion too.
I have another confession; I’m not completely leaving the beep scene behind. One my favourite new tracks combines the raw beeps of Crystal Castles with the unmistakable Goth tones of Mr. Robert E Smith from The Cure. Their re-worked version of ‘Not In Love’ is exciting and fresh and perhaps just a little bit of dirty rock and roll after all.
- Sunta Templeton
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