People say to me: “Jaimie, how come pop music has managed to rocket out of the ashes left by late-’90s conveyor-belt major label dross to defiantly reassert itself as the coolest musical disposition of 2009, bar none?”
And rather than waffle on about the new lifeblood of young hyper-proactive amazing independent songwriters and performers gravitating towards classic, soul-edifying choruses, and not giving a fuck about nonsensical notions of ‘indie’, I just whack on a song like this:
Monarchy are two chaps from London who don’t want people to know who they are. How many of those are there at the moment? Mystery projects… I blame the equation: also-ran + laptop + internet + shame.
There are strong rumours that Monarchy are these two, Milke. It’d make sense. It’s svelte, rolling synth-pop – take away the crotch-thrust and add some cosmos and you’re there.
At a glance maybe they don’t exactly make you want to run out and tattoo their busts upon your inner thigh but, hey, this is December 2009, as we’ve established it’s all about the hooks, and I haven’t heard too many underground acts with bigger ones than this all year.