Ones To Watch: Abadabad to Wet Nuns
Modern music’ greatest achievement is its creator’s ability to make lo-fi – once the domain of friendless amateurs – sound summery and dreamy, aspirational even. Although Boston’s Jeremy Lee Given’s song-writing feels as though it should dissolve into a metallic tasting cloud of give a shit slacker attitude, his voice gravitationally yanks his songs towards grooving lo-fi bliss. There’s a big dollop of Delux Folk Implosion on ‘Park Slope (I’m Sorry)’ but their overarching sound is of a dream pop Butthole Surfers with sparkling guitars and sad Corneleus Casios rumbaing towards Brainville. By tapping into American melancholia, with a louche tremolo edge, they have encapsulated a desire to create progressive music without sacrificing the need for a killer tune. Terrible name though.
There’s no hiding from it, Kodaline are a bit Coldplay – but hold on, don’t run away, there is more. Although ‘All I Want’ from the Dublin quartet’s self-titled debut EP may be riddled with “woahs” and echo riffs, there is a cynical mysticism ingrained in their epic sound. ‘Lose Your Mind’ has Kula Shaker’s groove and ‘Perfect World’ the urban hymning of Richard Ashcroft’s derelict pedestal, as though I Like Trains suddenly rewrote Hot House Flowers’s ‘Don’t Go’. Their populist sheen hasn’t eroded their ambition and they are eager to reclaim the stadium for the people; just as Galliano – with whom there is a nigglingly similar preachiness- would reclaim Tyford Down from the bland Tarmac of mainstream society’s car radios.
The sound of a ska back-beat epitomises a summer’s day more than any other musical trickery. It is the music of festivals, community galas and dancing with a warm cider. So it is fitting how Bristol, with its cider boat, has produced this horn blasting six piece with family friendly rhythms and infectious guitars. They have honed their thrillingly energetic pop-ska perfectly with singer Matthew Sellors’ ability to veer between husky rasps, and surfer raps while cheeky riff’s bait you with their mariachi hooks. They’re signed to Joss Stone’s Stoned Records, and carry on Stones’ infectious populist appeal, while bringing ‘Not Guilty’s’ Commitment’s soulfulness to your nearest sun drenched beach.
These are what Aiden Grimshaw thinks he sounds like; dark edgy pop with a voice to dissipate clouds. In many ways these anonymous Californian are a noir negative to Lana Del Ray’s Instragam shine with a detached attitude which speaks to the hipsters who secretly binge on ITV. ‘Female Robbery’ is an accessible take on late 90s cod-goth Rico with grooving mid temp beats and soaring choruses which send a spark in to the pop’s darkest thought. ‘Wires’, however, takes a route down Venice Beach, at night obviously, with its louche hip- hop. Their image heavy videos continue the nod to LDR with their vintage idealisms, but they are destined to encourage goths to go outside.
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There’s a small area of South Yorkshire that for this Sheffield guitar and drum duo will forever be a blood stained Arizona desert. Their beer brawl dust rock is pounded by snarly riffs and dirty witchcraft into sirloin slabs of devil rock with crystals of arthouse-satanic menace. By Taking the Sabbath dirge of Kyuss with a pinch of the Tarantino energy of the Jim Jones Revue they created obtuse death blues with is more Black Mirror than Black Keys. Being a duo often signifies a lack of mates to play with, but Wet Nun have the Arctic Monkeys as buddies and their crazy live shows are earning a devoted, cult like, following.Tagged in: Abadabad, Kodaline, music, The Neighbourhood, Wet Nuns, Yes Sir Boss
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