The 1975 arrived in 2013 under the perfect storm with
anything else almost surely not allowing their perplexing popularity to take
place. The British public had decided that after four albums of game-changing,
lyrically dexterous and truly dynamic Artic Monkeys records that the one that
would spiral them into being the biggest British band since Oasis was…AM.
Despite lacking everything that made the first four Arctic Monkeys albums
great, the lyrics, rhythms and (most importanty) the grounded subject matter that
allowed many to empathise and sympathise with them AM towered above these albums
in terms of popularity. On the coattails of the Arctic Monkeys infatuation with
being from anywhere but Britain came the 1975, clad in the same leather and having
even less of the lyrical and musical ability of the boys from San
FranSheffield. A strange universe that allows this to be the case is also the same
universe in which the 1975 can become popular.
The 1975’s main conversation point is sex. It’s the title of
their first EP and the subject matter of pretty much the entirety of their
first album. And like a teenager in a 90s chick flick I don’t think I believe
it. That was always the main problem with the 1975 for me. They just sound like
pure bullshitters and their songs blatantly aren’t that sexy.
This opinion was not the minority and the 1975 were one of
the critical jokes of the year. Even places that saw AM as genius saw through
their weak spectacle. Yet the 1975 are back and their first single, Love Me, received
praise from many of the establishments which had shunned them.
And as easy as it is to criticise them it is hard to
disagree why. Musically this song is catchy, infectious and properly good. This
is proper radio material, from its first instant those chords and hooks grab
your attention and they are good for it the whole way through. Even the chorus
has a groove to it that is undeniable and great.
However, the message of this song is so cheap, lazy and
abysmal that the first time you look at the lyrics or especially, when you view
the video which is one of the most shameless attention grabbing things I’ve
seen all year you are forced to view the song for what it is. The 1975 trying
to get back into everyone’s good books by bashing the easiest targets in the
world, popular music. This is not a new tactic with people like Jake Bugg,
Catfish and the Bottlemen and most especially Oasis making a career out of
appealing to the kind of people that are actually angered when someone listens
to pop music. For this reason and this reason alone I cannot recommend this
song as this practise is laughable and every band which tries and fuels the “popular
music is terrible” cliché needs to have a long hard look at themselves,
especially a band which exist only on the back of one of the biggest popular
bands in Britain.
The second single from The 1975 on this record does again
enter new territory and admitting that they aren’t actually sex gods with
lyrics like “I don't have the capacity for fucking” showing that The 1975 do
have a bit of self awareness. The rest of the song adds little. Although again
some of the musical elements please, especially the electronic blips at the
beginning but the song’s story doesn’t interest me at all and they show again
for the second time a lyrical weakness. Musically however this song does prove
that whoever is making up these riffs and beats actually does have a lot of
talent and I can genuinely see The 1975 growing up into being a genuinely good
band.
For now though they will be lucky to gain the same knee jerk
applause that people like NME get whenever a band has something negative to say
about pop and this album will likely come and go with The 1975 continuing to be
that band your sister likes.
Don’t bother. Really.
Dominic Allan.
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