At just 17 years old, Unseen Archives’ influences scan the likes of Joy Division, The Horrors and Late of the Pier and as a result, musically the band have successfully incorporated all the sombre drones of the of Ian Curtis and gothic pessimism of Faris Badwan, alongside the unpredictability of chaos pioneers Late of The Pier. However, with single ‘Pulses’ the band fail to showcase the same pizzazz as the afore mentioned artists.
Whether it’s the apathy conjured by the repetitive and uninspired lyrics or the unnecessary Libertine-esque sporadic yelling, there’s a real feeling that the band could do better and still unable to drink in the bars that their music could be played in, as the teenagers continue to grow as a band and perhaps work on the lyrical side of their production, it is likely their talents will expand further.
Los Angeles. The largest state in California and the state responsible for bringing us some truly horrific things. From The Hills’ Spencer Pratt to box office disgrace, Crank: High Voltage. Yet, amongst the roughage of undesirable mush, does emerge some refreshing musical talent including the likes of The Airborne Toxic Event, Rage Against the Machine and The Mars Volta: to name but three of rock’s most prestigious names.
And LA band, Darker My Love find themselves very much among the latter. Combining noise rock with a dash of ambient rock, the five-piece are a sort of hybrid assortment of traditional rock meets 70s surrealism. No doubt a direct result of the variety that arises from finding their feet having left various bands including The Nerve and The Fall.
Tracks like “Talking Words” and “Waves” show Darker My Love at their best in a psych versus classic rock frenzy. Like Animal Collective moshing alongside Kasabian as their collision spews out all their most treasured attributes from chaotic guitar riffs to an effortlessly hippy overtone.
2 is the band’s second album but first UK release and whilst they are undoubtedly difficult to pigeon hole, as a result of the band’s varied experiences and influences, their depth and ability to lure the listener in; before turning what we had come to expect on its head with atmospheric tracks like “Two Ways Out” and “All The Hurry Can Wait”, is something of an intoxicating quality and something that bodes well for the future of this diverse outfit.
Skint and Demoralised are made up of Matt Abbott, a twenty-year-old spoken word lyricist from Wakefield, alongside producer MiNi dOg who provides the beats to accompany Abbot’s endearing Northern twang.
Their debut single, ‘Red Lipstick’, is a quirky three minute ode to a schoolboy crush that Abbott found via his misspent social networking youth. A girl whose delightfully low maintenance attitude to life (liking no more than “Red lipstick/ Fish and chips/ Orange juice/ And trips to the seaside”) prompted Matt to put pen to paper to celebrate this seemingly rare find.
Whilst, this debut single might not have all the hard hitting erudite accuracy ofpartnerships such as Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, Abbott’s innate likeability seems to gloss over that as his singing voice, not unlike Richard Archer (of Hard Fi), bounces over the upbeat chorus of ‘Red Lipstick’.
This lack of depth to the debut single is also by no means illustrative of Skint and Demoralised’s other work, which delves into the social conscious; with Abbott’s vocal disapproval of the BNP and their election in his hometown and his back catalogue of work with Love Music Hate Racism.
Having played Glastonbury and with Bestival, Latitude, Reading and Wireless all to come, as well as a debut album due in October which is likely to be a better representation of the duo’s capabilities, Skint and Demoralised look set to make their mark this year, even if ‘Red Lipstick’ does not showcase the depths of the pair as much as fans may have liked. Abbott looks set for success, and it couldn’t happen to someone anymore down-to-earth and likeable.
“You hold a better conversation/ When born in grimey locations/ And that’s where you'll find my crib/ In the same area where the alkies live”
Kid British, on the surface, appear to be a sort of collective Jamie T meets the Jeremy Kyle generation with this ska pop concoction of social commentary. Of course, chucking in seemingly unnecessary nouns such as “crib” and “beef” to culminate some sort of street credibility to their Five-like rapping over a Madness sample.
That is, before you look a bit deeper. The above description of a band such as The Ting Tings, which, for all of their lyrical ineptitude and lack of credence, still strive to be taken seriously as a band screeching “They call me Stacey”, but the refreshing quality of Kid British is that they understand their pigeonhole and seemingly embrace it.
Describing themselves as having the “feel good factor”, Kid British are a four-piece that aren’t taking themselves too seriously, which is something of a sought after trait as all too often musicians morph into self indulgent clichés all about the ‘vibe’ and ‘getting the message out there’ whilst losing themselves in the aura of celebrity.
Don’t get me wrong. Kid British will by no means be everyone’s cup of tea; with the very quintessential use of the “Our House” sample, no doubt irritating ‘serious’ music fans everywhere. But in a sense, the very love hate quality of this upbeat outfit highlights the underlying pretension of the music industry.
If you’re sick of the same clichés of musicians feeling hard done by and like the sound of a tongue-in-cheek Blazin’ Squad version of Jamie T, overlooking the cheesiness of Kid British’s debut single, they may be a welcome bit of variety to play lists over our dreary British Summer.
