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The F Word - Stealing Sheep, Annie EEL + Staz and Olive Haigh 24/03/17 (Live Review)
On March 24th, “The F Word” celebrated women in the music industry with a gig organised, managed, engineered and performed by female students, artists and technicians. Its statement about gender inequality in the music industry was delivered with passion, positivity and an impressive line-up ideally headlined by Liverpool’s “Stealing Sheep”.
While Stealing Sheep provided huge appeal and audience enjoyment for the show, the most important part for me was seeing some of Cornwall’s talented female individuals working together, both in technical and on the stage. And the music couldn’t have been in better hands than with the much-loved Sans Paddle duo, who returned to the sound desk especially for The F Word.
The local support was chosen perfectly to reflect the diverse range of musical talent in Cornwall. Olive Haigh, with her Gothic demeanour and enchanting autoharp, has never failed to stand out since her emergence on the music scene a few years ago; this time treating longtime fans with unreleased material that shows a real dynamic progression in her unique dark-folk songwriting.
Olive’s performance was followed by the big and bold sound of “Annie EEL + Staz”, a newly-launched project from one half of Cornwall’s well-respected electronic duo Hockeysmith. Annie and Staz’s set is a carefully constructed journey into electronic soundscapes, with live vocal and track mixing, triggers and strobe lighting coalescing. Annie’s sweetly soft vocals are layered and delayed to great effect, sweeping in and out of heavy dance beats from Staz’s cutting edge DJ manipulation of the tracks. And the wonderful part about the performance is that Annie herself always looks like she’s having as much fun as the audience; at one point even getting into the crowd to encourage dancing amidst the strobe effect. The enthusiasm that radiates from her makes it difficult not to get swept up in the excitement of the music, leaving the audience in the perfect frame of mind to round off the evening with Stealing Sheep’s uplifting indie-pop.
With an event like The F Word opening important dialogue about representation in the music scene, it’s vital we don’t let it end there. It’s easy to find yourself at an all-male gig, but that doesn’t mean that’s the way things should be. Whenever you can, support the amazing female musicians in Cornwall - and with artists like Olive Haigh and Annie EEL + Staz, it’s hard not to.
By Nicholas Heartland
Amos Jacob (New Pantheon Club) Interview
On Wednesday 2 November, New Pantheon Club comes to MONO for their first show outside of its DIY birthplace at the Warehouse. Nicholas Heartland spoke to organiser Amos Jacob about the group, the upcoming gig and the ongoing student community arts scene of Falmouth.
NH: Let’s talk about New Pantheon Club. How did it come about?
AJ: Ultimately it grew out of space and the opportunity that having space to play allows people. Last year I was living in this block which was a converted warehouse, and there were 20 people living in 7 flats. We were so lucky because we had living rooms that were 7m+ square to play with. There was a time, around November, when about 7 people ended up there and we just had a little jam, cooked dinner and were there until really late. This ability to invite people back to our own space, it allowed people not to worry about other spaces. So suddenly people were relaxed and chatty and it was just how you would want it to be, and it felt organic. So without there being a plan to make it bigger particularly, I invited about 20/30 people - I say “I”, there were two flats side by side and we shared the responsibility - to come round, watch a film and play some music. Eventually there was a life drawing lesson because a lot of people were fine artists. Then that became more formalised again, we put on a programme of play where we did more drawing, some sound improvisation, we went to go see a dance show at AMATA, and we had a massive curry that I cooked that morning.
That carried on a few iterations and then people who were going to that were also in bands, their bands were at a stage where I thought, you’ve got songs, you’ve got friends who want to share each other’s practice, but there’s no obvious place for gigs. Although the open mic nights are great in Falmouth, they have such a locked culture, and it’s not that difficult to get a gig in the established venues but then you’re immediately locked to that space and the commercial culture of that space or the audience of that space, so it’s out of our control. My worry is that it’s so easy to slip into the standard industry model, which I don’t think works and I don’t think it’s what we want. I think it’s become so industrial and capitalist and that’s not what the arts are for really. So it made complete sense, as we have a massive front room, and we can hire all the tech equipment from the university (because that’s what we’re paying for), to put on a night there with three friends’ bands and we had about 40 people and it was amazing; the bands had a great time, the audience had a great time, and it felt so communal. There wasn’t a boundary between the audience and the band, it was people playing for their friends and friends appreciating them, and again it just felt so organic.
To finish off the year we did another one, which for whatever reason became my project - some people who were there at the start stepped back a bit and other people went off to do other projects - and this was the first time it was justifiably called New Pantheon Club. We had a band who are now called The Empty Threats and Luna Plexus also played. Security came, and rightly so, we had 80 people and the floor was bowing, and I was aware this wasn’t the best location to do it but it was the only one we had, and that wasn’t a reason not to do it. Some people are lucky enough to be able to articulate to themselves what choices are generally sustainable and what choices are just bad ideas. It felt like there were was a lot of energy and a lot of talk around community and all this left-wing, artistic, we-can-do-it mentality, which exists quite a lot in Falmouth and at the university and in Cornwall largely. New Pantheon Club had manifested in something that was real and it wasn’t just talk, it was like we had actually done something that exists.
NH: How do you feel that the New Pantheon Club fits into the wider music scene? Do you feel it can only exist because of the communities that come out of the uni?
I don’t for a second think that it is owned by the university, and one of the reasons for not having any branding ties or asking them for support (beyond what I happened to be entitled to as a student, in terms of getting kit out) is because I don’t think that it’s a very healthy way of approaching life. The university is great for what it does and academia is fascinating but the wider community that we actually live in is worth so much more. I was lucky enough last year to get involved with the Penryn community and felt very welcomed there - trying to build a proper new park sort of level of community engagement. When you have that sort of foundation, everything else becomes real, because you do see people in the street that you recognise - multigenerational and multicultural stuff. I realised recently that idea of diversity, it’s not a cute liberal ideal. If you believe in the mythology of science then the planet has spent around 400 million years figuring out what works, and it turns out diversity works. If you have lots of different things going on that are all integrated and all bouncing off each other then you have sustainable life. For myself, there are a lot of people that the world makes important and I love them to pieces, and the danger is that in a year and a half, on something like May 28th, no-one has anywhere to live, no-one is going to get a job, everyone splits up, and the community that had formed isn’t sustainable because it’s founded on the membership of Falmouth University. As soon as that’s gone then there’s nothing left, and that sucks for the individuals, and it sucks for the wider society, because that way it stops communities building foundations and everyone becomes alien to each other.
So I really hope New Pantheon Club organically grows into the community that’s there. I have no interest in forcing anything or building anything because it might be it turns out the best thing it can do is to help a smaller community, which might be the student community, but I doubt that’s what’s going to happen. The moment you try to force something on someone, it’s not right, but I’m very confident that because of what I want to do with it and because I know what people who are involved with it are interested in, that it will grow out. I really want to start doing acoustic nights, but acoustic is a word that is so often bastardised because you usually go to an acoustic night and there’s an amp and a microphone and that’s not acoustic at all. So the plan is to get a totally different setting to MONO, maybe somewhere like Beerwolf or Chintz, or maybe somewhere completely unaffiliated in any way, and have a mixture of musicians who can play acoustically, whether that’s jazz or metal or singer/songwriter, classic, folk. The rule is - I love rules because it’s what they imply and the freedom rules give you - the music has to be made acoustically, without amplification. Then also having a bit where the musicians teach things to the audience, whether it’s choruses or three part harmonies. I feel no need to force it, but allow it to enfold and just water it and prune off dead leaves here and there, but actually I think it will do its own thing and be fine. I hope it will be much more appropriate, more accessible, more meaningful and more fun, to then start making a community around music, as opposed to just a music community because I only know the bands I know. There’s a problem there that I could never really easily programme bands until I meet them.
It comes from an understanding that it’s about giving an invitation, and that’s so much more powerful than I could ever imagine. And actually, if you don’t accept the invitation then that’s absolutely fine, but try to actually meaningfully come and join in. It’s a safe space where you will be welcomed, where also if you want to just be quiet and sit at the side and watch that’s fine as well.
NH: You’ve got this MONO gig coming up, how does that fit in with everything you’ve just said about organically taking New Pantheon Club into the wider community?
AJ: On the strategic, philosophical level, which I do really start from, and it can come across in some conversations as a bit conceited, but it does come from a philosophical standpoint. That’s our power as conscious beings, we can imagine things, play out scenarios that don’t actually happen in time and space. Well, they happen in time and space, but there’s also the dimension of consciousness which we can manipulate so much more easily than the other two. So the process of thinking things through, you can play with stuff and you can put it into practice and then it’s easier to guide it when you see opportunities. It’s that moment when you’re leafing through a magazine or Facebook or the library, and suddenly you see exactly the thing you were thinking of and clearly the fact that it’s there and the process in which you notice it is the art of being curious. So that’s the standpoint to it.
MONO fits into the growth because it’s defined and it can be related to by the bands, by the audience. Because MONO is such a small capacity, it is possible that some people will be unable to go - and it’s not about exclusivity, there’s the fire regulations in that space - but for those people, and for the people who might hear about it afterwards, if it’s done with integrity and there’s a reputation of integrity then that hopefully gives a trunk, a sturdy trunk that means doing more projects off the back of the success of something like that is so much easier because it’s starting to build, or at least validate its reputation. Everybody involved will be able to reflect upon it a bit and think actually, where does it go next?
I would love more ideas to grow out of this collective entity and I’d love other people to come in and ask, could we do this? Yes, we could do this. I can’t do it, but if you want to do it and it fits with the culture, then it becomes a way of bringing people together and everyone benefits. The idea that there’s some commercial value to the exclusivity and to the horrible marketing words like branding, personal reputation, I’m really not interested in that, because outside of the tiny community we’re actually in, there’s the student community, then there’s the Falmouth community, then there’s the Cornish community, personal reputation is irrelevant anyway.
NH: So is this kind of thing that’s going to provide the platform for more upcoming student bands as well as local bands?
I hope so. The intention of this is to make it a monthly night, and the format we had in the Warehouse is the same as here; three or four bands, half hour sets. If there’s one thing I could ask to the people who might be coming to this is come at the start, there’s going to be music from 8:15/8:30, four different bands, singer/songwriter, blues rock, electro-indie and post-punk. It’s an eclectic mix but everything you can dance to, and that was the rule for New Pantheon. I don’t care what it is, you have to be able to dance to it. Then after 11, which is when the licence for live ends, Rose, who was very integral to the Warehouse - she was one of the inspirations for wanting to make things like a community - she goes by the name of Woman and DJs this amazing mix of ska, reggae, world and getting heavier as the night goes on, starting to bring in more bass and dub. It’s nice because it’s not what you usually hear, it’s not just a night of music lifted from a chart, it’s almost like coming from cultures where circle dancing and communal music is the only way music exists. So it felt really appropriate to ask her to come and DJ because it’s a lot more inward looking - it’s not about the celebrities or the bands or the producers. But if there’s more DJs who want to DJ then they can do sets. It’s about building into a more communal enterprise where it’s not really about the individual, and also for the bands it’s not really about the individual, it’s about the opportunity to play with an audience safely and play with performance.
NH: Did you ever get to any of the Space 37 events? Because for me this feels like a continuation of that culture, filling the void left by Space 37 as well as the DIY arts nights that came before it.
AJ: There was a moment, probably in late October last year, when we heard about this thing in the garage [Space 37] and me and Ella Squirrell (who is playing in November), saw this group of people who were trying to build this community and we felt like we’d arrived - this is our school, this is where all the things we’ve ever thought or dreamt come together. The openness of Space 37 and also the openness of places like the Poly and the Newlyn Exchange, all the cultural institutions that are there in the community, not so much in the academic community but actually trying to get in touch with the people, they’re all so welcoming and they’re all so supportive, and Space 37 was supportive of me and my peers. Suddenly it reframes it because it’s not third year, second year, first year hierarchy, suddenly it’s not local/student binary opposites, it’s like we just want to share something we feel is really important, because that’s what we happen to believe. If it turns out other people, for whatever reason, believe it too, then that’s sweet and we can work together towards something that’s beneficial to the whole.
Interview by Nicholas Heartland
Waxx Interview
So how did you guys form? Mummy and daddy loved each other very much and they formed us with Plasticine.
Well, yeah we were in a band together for around three years and within that band it moved from one writer to all three of us and when that came to an end we just kind of thought, why don't we try this on our own?
After Rosie and the Goldbug split we were in a bit of a limbo land. We'd rehearsed a couple of weeks after but we'd always thought about getting someone else in. We never set out to have the Waxx sound that we do, going through two amps or for either of us to do vocals. We just got together because we wanted to make some racket and that somehow has led to this.
How would you describe Waxx's sound? It's always a hard one isn't it? We're quite hard on ourselves on how we want Waxx to sound. We don't want to sound too much like a rock band but we also don't want to sound too much like a pop band which is probably why it's come out in the way it has. We don't want to be a hipster band, or an alternative band but at the same time, we're all those things as well.
It's kind of like pop songs played by people who have heavy music interests in a sense, not heavy in the sense of say Slayer but more so in a sense of mood. Lyrically the subject matter is about things that sound like they are fun but they aren't and musically it's the same and when we play it live it's more angry. There's a bit of weariness for us in putting something out that means a lot emotionally to us, and maybe we get away with it by putting a bit of cheekiness to it. But that kind of sums us up as people as well, some people are just jokers.
So how would we describe our sound...cheeky, loud, indie pop.
As you mentioned earlier, you were both in Rosie and the Goldbug together. What is it about each other that made you want to continue working together? We have a particular approach to music and how we want it to sound and what in music pleases us. We haven't met many people up to this point who we've practiced or played with who have seemed to understand this. But when we met each other, it just seemed to click. We both have to make each other happy in the way that we play music and the things that we create otherwise there's not going to be a complete enjoyment. It's really difficult finding people to make music with because everyone has different tastes and different preferences so to have a band where we have the same preferences and understand how we want to approach music is just rare and something we had to continue with.
And were there any concerns that you'd be continuously compared to Rosie and the Goldbug? Oh yeah in all honesty we were. We wanted to get as far away from it but realised quite quickly that it's not possible when you’re so invested and committed. That's why we started messing with sounds and just trying to get things to sound a bit more gnarly. There isn't anything that we're not doing in spite of Rosie and the Goldbug, we wouldn't write off doing anything just because that band did it.
We're just keen to do things on our own terms, Waxx is a very different attitude, a different sound and approach to song writing. There are no regrets or negative feeling when it comes to Rosie and the Goldbug but Waxx is really different so hopefully the less comparisons the better because if somebody comes to watch Waxx on the basis of having seen us perform in Rosie and the Goldbug then they'd have a bit of a shock.
Since forming you've hit the ground running with slots at Boardmasters, Leopallooza and now a support slot for We Are Scientists. What do you think it is about the band that is creating these opportunities? First and foremost being honest and approachable human beings. If you put the effort into being involved in a local music scene, being positive about it and acting positive within it then it's swings and roundabouts really. We gig as much as possible, go to as many local gigs as possible and try and help out anyone who needs it so every now and then you get something thrown back your way and then that's when your music does the talking for you.
We've been in lucky in that we've been involved in the local scene for a long time and people like Louise Martin and Liam Jolly, we know them, so part of it is down to them giving us a chance at cool festivals and then the other part is coming off stage and having them turn to us and say 'actually, you know that was pretty cool!'
We wouldn't like to say that we're good enough to play these stages yet, that doesn't feel like something that's in our nature to say but if we could say one positive thing about us it's that we've got good songs in there and if that's displayed with the right type of energy then it's probably something that an audience can enjoy, because it's something we'd enjoy if we were in the audience. That's definitely something that we can pat ourselves on the back for.
Being a bass and drums two piece means you're going to be compared to the likes of Royal Blood. Is that that something you think will help or hinder the band? A bit of both depending on the person making the comparison. It's not something we particularly enjoy because it's something that we feel like, if you've just watched us and compared us to Royal Blood then perhaps you weren't listening very much. A lot of it is probably people just assuming what you sound like before you've played. If you tell someone you are a drums and bass two piece right now then they are just going to assume that you are going to sound like Royal Blood. The more you actually look at it the less you'd probably feel inclined to make that comparison. It's always something that's bound to happen though and something that as a musician you just accept.
There are upsides to it all though. There are a whole host of two piece bands who have broken onto the mainstream that have made it acceptable to be a two piece band. Years ago if someone asked you to come and see a bass and drums duo band you'd probably just assume that they were just going to jam and not really have songs. So it's great that there are bands out there that are showcasing that you can create a sound with just two people that's absolutely huge.
Both lyrically and image wise you come across as a band who don't take themselves too seriously. Is that something you agree with? We wouldn't say it was part of an image or anything like that but just our personalities. It's super cliché to say but that really is just the essence of us as human beings. We don't sit together and dwell, ponder and that sort of thing. We are the type of people who just prat around. It's pleasing that we come across like that though, we're having fun and we want people to come to gigs and feel the same. We're not the kind of personalities that can convey emotion in the same sense as say Kurt Cobain or Nick Cave. There's definitely a darkness to everything we do but it will always be underpinned by a cheekiness because that's who we are.
And is that something you wished were more apparent in the modern music industry? Modern pop music is pretty fun but we wouldn’t wish any act to be more like us or anything, all we would wish is that the music you are listening to is honest. Whether someone is super tongue-in-cheek or writing songs about surfing there's no reason why that can't be as enjoyable and relate-able as someone writing about dark serious things, as long as there's a sense of personal honesty within that. Music doesn't have to sorrowful or super sad to be meaningful, although a lot of the time it is. There does seem to be a train of thought that a happy song can't be purposeful and that's something we don't get onboard with.
What are your future plans for Waxx? Firstly, an immediate hug as soon as we get out of here.
We're building a practice room because we realised that we're wasting so much money on rehearsal spaces. We're quite practically minded, we've rounded off this year having done a load of great gigs and in January next year we're going to be analysing what we did this year and then figuring out how we can be better and do better. We're starting to write some more songs and work on adding some things to our sound, maybe more percussion or another amp. We want to take it a level with our sound and improve as writers and players and just gig as much as possible.
Interview and photography by Craig Taylor-Broad
Cross - Self-Titled (Mini EP Review)
Cross are classic. Cross are meaty. Cross are a punch in the face of feebleness. Their live shows are defined by head-banging until you’re disorientated, and their live recordings capture this energy faultlessly. How they do it remains a mystery to me, all I know is that the trio rank very highly in our music scene. With their new self-titled EP Cross, the band have failed to ruin their perfect streak, with grunge offerings that are carefully devised and intelligibly penned. Do you like alt-rock with a kick? Do you like music so winding and edgy that it gives you whiplash? Are you a fan of tasty guitar solos? If so, then this EP is one for you. Opening strongly with Head High, Cross launches into a tirade that channels the likes of Alice In Chains and Nirvana. It’s a strong sound; it’s a bold sound; it’s so typically Cross – and that’s what makes it so powerful in its resonance. It’s a rare ability to pen a track that reveals different qualities upon every listen, but that’s a convention that the band are apt in. Head High is the faultless demonstration of this. What a start! Providing the filling of the 3-track EP is Swallow My Breath – my personal favourite on the record. With resilient guitar riffs and a hefty bass counterpart, the angst-drenched track is a stand-out demonstration on how the genre is going to be saved. Lurid, vivid and harsh, if you’re not listening to it at a deafening level then you’re doing something wrong. This is classic rock in the making! An evolution in sound is also present upon the EP. Closing track Between the Lines is slower, subtler and far calmer than I’m used to hearing from Cross. This, however, isn’t a bad thing at all. The group don’t commit to anything by halves and this pensive track is definitive in its own right, with a quality that displays each band member’s distinct abilities. Theft is illegal, and £2.50 for a slice of grunge bliss is a steal – but I encourage you to take the opportunity while you can. You can aquire the plucky Cross EP here.
Written by Keira Trethowan
An Open Letter to the Cornwall Music Scene
When I first started watching local bands around fourteen years ago the scene was similar in many respects to how it is now. I can remember countless bands, from all different genres, and audiences filling rooms. Strangers became mates and soon enough you found yourself with a group of people who would hang out at certain venues every week regardless who was playing. I guess a lot of this comes down to youth and nostalgia but despite this, I never thought that even with the plethora of bands that anyone was going to make it. Whatever the fuck that means.
I find myself now, writing about and photographing a new scene of incredibly talented bands, this time thinking that Cornwall could actually manage to produce some genuine exports. Even though accommodating venues seem sparser now, ones of note (Studio Bar, Charlies Bar, Mono, etc) continue flying the flag for original music. I can't say that the level of audiences have stuck around but perhaps that's the nature of the gigging scene. Sometime's it's fucking incredible, sometimes it isn't.
Recently I've been toying with ideas on how we can improve our local music scene and for a long time I thought that the inclusion of more alternative music venues would crack it. That's why when Mono first opened we heralded it, remarking that it would be some form of saviour. And in some respects it really has, but in the last year or so it has become evidently clear to me what the problem we are facing is: incest.
As a solo performer and a live music photographer, I have been witnessing what I can only described as acts fucking brother/sister acts. That sounds nuts. Let me put it a different way. The same bands, on the same line-ups, playing in the same venues, to the same audiences. Mates playing with mates for mates. Major fucking orgy. But the bands are good, so everything is great right now but eventually I can foresee a frustration that I already have.
Firstly, it is fucking hard to get gigs. I can tell you this because I've just booked a mini-tour and wanted a Cornwall date. Not possible, I couldn't get one, but a London venue was more than happy to book us. The more you think about that, the more sickening and strange it feels. Secondly, even when you do get gigs, it's in the same places to the same people. I've desperately contacted venues in places I've never really played as well as bands I've never played with asking to support them but it's rare you get a response from either. And yes, I love my mates, they are a bunch of incredible bastards but we've seen each other play to damn much. Perhaps if i wasn't such a stubborn bugger I would've quit trying a long time ago, and I know of some local bands who have.
And sure, while right now we can all see that the scene is oozing with talent and great gigs, there is a danger of it slipping away. There's an ever prescent elitism that has lead us curled up cosily into our comfort zones. None of us is being pushed to up our games playing beside bands we haven't performed with before, nor are we being challenged by trying to win over daunting new audience members. I might be being a drama queen here, but eventually we're going to be getting an abundance of cocky lacklustre live performances, audiences not bothering to go to gigs (seen it all before haven't we?) and perhaps even a lack of new bands on the scene (after all, if I'm finding it hard to break into venues after all this time, then fuck being a new act).
Now, I'm a negative guy. Most people will call me a pessimist although I'd stoutly remark that at least I'm a realistic pessimist. So I want to wrap this up in a vaguely positive manner so no-one calls me a cunt next time I turn up at their gig. This isn't about ostracizing myself and moping about bands being more popular. I couldn't give a shit. You're all super talented and lovely (apart from those who are cocky cunts). This is about creating a music scene that is more inclusive because the more open we are to different artists, the more we will all grow as a result.
Support your local musician, not just your mates. Written by Craig Taylor-Broad
Louella Jade Eke’s sunny disposition makes her an instantly likeable character - and the fact that she creates addictively luscious music only sweetens the deal. Wearing It In, the artist’s new single, is the prime example of this frivolous resonance, and the accompanying music video does it the justice that it undoubtedly merits.
Filmed by Purple Knif’s Mawgan Lewis, the video is a ball of energy that exudes the very definition of carte blanche. From dowdy and grey, to bright and obscure, it displays a journey through two mind-sets in a gregarious manner that makes budget filming seem like the way forward. It’s just impossible to stay gloomy when watching something so energetic and unrestricted.
Almost childish in its construction, the video fits with the jovial track perfectly, and does so in a way that demonstrates Louella’s quirky personality. Absorbed by the raw novelty of its appeal, it’s a refreshing convention to see so much of an artist decanted into her work. She needs no smoke or mirrors, no falsities or distractions. She is who she is, and that’s validated by Wearing It In. What a bracingly charming music video.
The track is now available to perchase on iTunes: https://itun.es/gb/iDnAab
Written by Keira Trethowan
The Interceptors - Lights Out EP
Lucky are the bands who are yet to experience the crippling treachery of the music industry. They know nothing of the heavy-hearted majority who perform their creations with a forte of embittered resentment. Refreshing it is though to occasionally witness a group who still play with naivety and a jovial disposition.The Interceptors are one such band, and the release of their debut EP Lights Out is the very delineation of this convention.
During a recent bout of successful gigs, the bold trio caught my eye and revealed themselves to be something quite distinct. It’s not necessarily their sound that warrants this inimitable title, it’s more due to their mischievous aura and defiant energy; an energy that is fiercely present on the four tracks featured on Lights Out.
With a mixed genre that merges indie, pop and rock the EP makes for an absorbing listen. The lyrics are constructed with intellectual penmanship and the surrounding music has that proficiently catchy vibe that only few are able to produce. It’s evident that an incredible amount of time and passion has been poured into the four featured songs, with a minimal route of idleness taken.
EP title-track Lights Out and Parallel are both stand-out tracks and feature the raw, hearty concords that the mainstream division would undoubtedly lap up.Flags however, incorporates a slightly heavier sound with more incredulous musings. It’s virtuous that the group have spiced their EP up with this amalgamation of sound. Too many times have I beheld droning, monotonous EP’s with nothing to offer but the same trajectory on repeat.
Hollow would be my only reason for criticism as with its light-hearted edge, I struggled to find any depth or substance within its darker lyrics. It’s clear when you’re listening to a track performed by someone who unaffectedly means the words they’re singing, but from Fred Baylis’ vocals I felt absolutely nothing. Perhaps I’m being a mite unfair though, given the pop-esque genre of the track.
With the success they’ve achieved thus far, it’s hard to conceive that The Interceptors have only been together for just under a year. But with youth, a resilient sound and an optimistic outlook they will go much further. I foresee a glistening future for the trio. Review by Keira Trethowan.