I call them “Lammo bands” (with no disrespect to Steve Lamacq whatsoever, he’s a nice fella) . You know them, the wholesome side of indie. More Jonas Brothers than Joan As Police Woman, more Marcus Mumford than Mark E Smith, they are ubiquitous. They really are.
They’re indie with the edges sanded off, nice folks you could take back home to your family with nary a raised brow. I’m talking Wet Leg, Hot Wax, English Teacher, The Almond Milk Float (I may have invented that last name).
Usually, they’re posh, well -groomed and articulate. No judgment on backgrounds, no-one can help that. But what bugs me is that they have nothing to say. Where’s the rebellion? Nothing to really rebel against, when you have cool, supportive parents.
They’re usually gorgeous, put together by record companies. I want the weirdos, with interesting sounds. I’m not seeing much of this lately from indie bands. Even Dry Cleaning, whose first single ‘Scratchcard Lanyard’ pointed to something interesting, became stale really quickly.
Kate Bush, inducted into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame today, was a shy outsider with esoteric tastes from a young age. Ezra Furman ia transgender, with a hell of a lot to say about being a misfit. Bjork took her classical training and “gave it the big finger”, as she once put it.
I want to hear real voices, new ideas, not just bands ripping off postpunk again. The Bug Club just aren’t doing it for me… It’s all so safe, formulaic and nice. Ditch the guitars and give us something new. No more Mumfordisation.
Hit The North 