NME’s Rebecca Robinson reviews this week’s singles
Joe Goddard ft Valentina – ‘Gabriel’
Joe Goddard. He is in Hot Chip, apparently, but so what? It doesn’t excuse this deathly shallow chillwave for robots with no sense of humour. While Valentina may have what we in the biz would refer to as “a canny pair of pipes”, so did Enya, and she’s still utterly tedious. Besides, they’re merely a sticking plaster over this gaping void of hipster dross that would struggle to provoke an emotional reaction from Amanda Holden on her period.
Friendly Fires – ‘Hurting’
Despite sounding like it wouldn’t be out of place on Steve Wright In The Afternoon, there’s something a bit Sophie Ellis-Bextor about this single (a lavish compliment, obviously). It’s good, though – there’s a nerdy vibe that comfortably offsets just how southern they are, which doesn’t make you want to grab them and squeeze their throats until their little legs stop shaking. Which is kind of cool.
Feist – ‘How Come You Never Go There’
Thank fuck there’s a new Feist single out – in another month or so, ad execs would be reduced to banging pans with sticks and hollering like chimps. It’s fine, but if it were to survive an apocalypse and be the only remnant of our civilisation discovered by future explorers, we’d probably be so retrospectively ashamed we’d fire the nukes all over again.
The Rifles – ‘Tangled Up In Love’
Stop the press! This is INCREDIBLE! The Rifles still exist! Same old story, in case for some schadenfreude-laden reason you’re interested: acoustic guitar and trite lyrics lead with crushing inevitability to “soaring” guitar solo of moderate technical ability which, in turn, careers into the obligatory slow bit with chanting vocals. Frantic refrain, ill-thought-out climax, fade. Buy it for your dad, if he’s a dick.
Let’s Buy Happiness – ‘Dirty Lakes’
This lot are bank-rolled by dear padre the Hairy Biker, and reluctant as we are to end up dead in an idyllic country lay-by with a rustic ham in our mouth, it isn’t much cop. Pleasant indie-by-numbers that won’t get you hot under the collar.
Puro Instinct – ‘Stilyagi’
While to the untrained eye, weird Aryan twosome Puro Instinct might look like the sort of band whose biggest achievement was the release of their debut tote bag, this song is several different flavours of rad, brimming with ethereal genius. It could have been written by ‘Gala’-era Lush and for that alone, it made us swoon clean off our chair.
This article appears in the September 24th issue of NME