By The Loves
Indiepop, which the sharper LMS reader will have noticed I like to write about, well, indiepop is as dangerous as heroin. One minute you are figuring out that jingly jangly music with arpeggiated chords isn't too hard to play! The next minute you are broke, you own nothing but a cardigan and a scruffy pair of converse, your Mrs is fucking someone else 'cos he has a big car and knows how to be arrogant and uncaring, while you are at home crying over your Morrissey solo albums like a whiny little bitch. And I know what I'm talking about here, 'cos I'm Jonny Dartz. If you don't want a serious case of The Elliott Smiths (a great band name and an even better euphemism for misery), then well, stay away from that wicked bad indiepop.
The Loves have been playing indiepop long enough to have a wiki, and it says "The Loves have attracted criticism from many reviewers and people in the music industry for their alleged reliance on pastiche in their recordings and live performances." Well, let's kick this bastard while he is down one last time. Simon out of The Loves has had enough, and apparently this is the last album. I can't say I blame him. That cute blonde chick out of The School used to be in The Loves, and now she's in The School, and they are going to be really famous. Los Campesinos are already really famous. Hell, even I'm going to be famous. Everyone is going to be famous except The Loves, and Simon has finally accepted this. He's sick of his Mrs cheating on him, so he is giving it all up, and getting, like, a job. One of those things we all never wanted cos we're toooo shhhyyyyyyyy. As such, the final Loves album is fantastically bitter and self-deprecating. As bored, boring sixties pastiches go, it is one of the best I have heard in a while.
Seriously though, when your band doesn't sell any records and your bird has left you, it just makes you want to make more indiepop. It's a disease, a vicious circle, and it's WORTH IT. Dreams are worth more than cardigans, and they're worth more than cheating girlfriends. It gets hard having dreams for breakfast, but dreams are still better than breakfast. I'm going to be somewhat surprised if Mr Love doesn't succumb to indiepop again soon. The Loves have been in this game for years, it made them an animal, there's rules to this shit, they wrote them a manual. This review might not show it, but I have got mad respect for all they have achieved in their indie-est of careers.
Seriously though, if you are really so tired of not being famous, why don't you write some decent songs instead of this half arsed six out of ten wrestling retirement shit? What are you, starring in Lethal Weapon and just one day from the end of your distinguished indiepop career when suddenly Mel Gibson starts blowing shit up like a madman? Never retire, never give up, never explain, never apologise, and point that little sneer away from yourself and towards the fucking audience.
P.S I should stress that I dunno if Simon out of The Loves has got a bird that has left him or even a cardigan and in fact he could be gay and hate cardigans for all I know or care.