The XX’s debut album is the soundtrack to a rainy day, but in a good way. It’s an understated, but disarmingly mellow, forty minutes of early 20-something indie-pop, in which most of the fun exists between the hand claps, the breathy vocals and the minor chords, in the unsung and the unplayed. Forget that nagging outstanding piece of DIY and lie on your bed with this on your stereo, and let the rain do the rest of the work.
Feel free to do a bit of shimmying, though. ‘Islands’ is a low-key butt shaker, which will allow you to move your hips without breaking into a sweat. ‘Heart Skipped a Beat’ is the sound of coming home (and coming down) from the best night of your life. It’s twinkly guitar, and male/female harmonies are slinky and sexy. Best of all is ‘Crystalised’, the epitome of quiet intensity. Its unassuming sound almost betrays its passive aggression and menace.
Once you’ve done your butt-shaking, fall into the ambient arms of ‘Fantasy’. It is surely the missing link between Pink Floyd and Massive Attack. It’s lilting guitars and sinister, yet seductive bassline, care not for genre or influence.
Its this song which sums up the album’s strength. Influences are felt strongly thoughout (it is a debut album, after all), however they are so mixed in origin, the overall impression is of something you haven’t heard before. All that can be discerned is that proceedings are thoroughly modern. It makes me break into synesthesia; it has a just-baked-bread freshness, and is every bit as delicious.
No comments:
Post a Comment