The raw and the cooked
We all know music can elicit reactions from across the emotional palette. What defines how sound your musical taste is usually the comparison between your reaction and mine. If you’re out by a matter of degrees, it’s probably sound. Other end of the spectrum? Well, lets just say there are plenty of other pursuits in life so off you go…
There’s this band called The Script. Now, Jo Whiley, she of Radio One fame, has willingly put herself out there to try and convince us all that we should part our now more precious cash for the “amazing new album by Ireland’s hottest new band” What follows are clips of a well groomed, distinctive chap, warbling heartfelt lyrics to rock beats (well, what i can only describe as the pedestrian one, two, one one, two type standard that forms the bedding for all lazy rock bands). The ad is all sharp cuts of the handsome one, clearly distressed or pensive over the girl he’s pining for. They don’t show the rest of the band, presumably because they’re all either receding or have crazy eyes, but instead add some slick flashes of the band’s name in case you didn’t hear Ms Whiley the first or second, or third time.
Now, if you’ve seen this ad be honest. Did your heart leap at the same time that you thought, ooo I’ve been looking for a new band since I wore out my Plain White T’s album. Or was it your stomach doing the involuntary moving?
If you’ve not seen it, click here and be prepared:
http://www.visit4info.com/advert/Sony-CD-The-Scripts-debut-album-The-Script-Sony-Recordings/63090
What gets me is that this band a clearly so so bad that they’ve had to draft in all the tricks to get you to be tempted. Ignore the ugly band members, near black and white shots to suggest a bit of class, slick production moving just quick enough so you can’t dwell and think about how cheesy each shot is, enough music to give the main pop hooks before you have a chance to go (hmmm, haven’t I heard this before), and of course the credibility from the DJ who has done more CD ads than Zane Lowe, Colin Murray and Steve Lamaq put together.
An hour after seeing this, I was at the last regular gig night put on by my friend’s brother, upstairs at a pub on Essex Road called the Old Queen’s Head. The first band on were a 5-piece who looked like they’d forgotten they were playing, and had stepped out in baggy t-shirts and good rain-hardy clothes, hair all a bit well, normal but slightly in need of a cut, but just like, this is how it normally is. Their token effort to try and stand out was to all wear Barak Obama t-shirts as this was the day after the election. Through the course of their set there were guitars, a violin, flute, clarinet, drums, bass, and some pretty bad singing. But not because they couldn’t sing. Just because they’d probably had a few, and it was a small venue where you could hear the voice for real. And they were the first act on so maybe they are just starting out.
They were a bit experimental, in the Vampire Weekend sort of way with the beats and the instruments, but 2 songs from the end they hit a sweet spot and the timing and notes all fell into place. It lasted for a song and a half and then all fell apart again. But there was something very real about it.
I wonder if bands like the Script genuinely ever went through that stage in their local pub, and were picked up by Sony and repackaged? Or whether they were conceived by Sony from scratch? If the latter then that’s a far more insidious product than your standard manufactured pop who many knowingly and unashamedly love for being a product of the pop world. Even if they played for their mates and got local acclaim, it can only be because friends are too polite to tell you you’re crap. And now, having been fully processed and packaged they are ready for consumption in the way that one can feel comfortable.
But as with my steak, I prefer it (almost) raw.
