I Won’t Lie To You
While Teflon-coated, slickly produced pop certainly has its charm, it’s fair to say that music that sounds like it was recorded in a bin made out of corrugated metal is always going to win out. If you stripped the likes of Girls Aloud of their layer upon layer of polish and tempted away their unending streams of songwriters and stylists, you’d simply be left with five New Look shop assistants caterwauling in the changing rooms and fighting over the last of the Kelly Brook range of push-up bras.
‘I Won’t Lie To You’ would be nigh on perfect if produced by blind toddlers, Bloc Party’s right-hand man Paul Epworth or the poptastic Xenomania squad. As it stands, it seems the blind toddlers won out. Crashing about like Mark E Smith in the Sainsbury’s booze aisle, it lasts a sweet two minutes and 42 seconds; leaving you wanting more. Like the sarky little brother of Franz’s Alex Kapranos, Let’s Wrestle’s singer – the mysteriously monikered WPG – delivers his lyrics via a mixture of arch camp and amused detachment. When he coyly barks his way though the song’s semi-nonsensical but somehow romantic lines like “The duvet’s on fire/And so is your hair/But darling, that’s the way it is/And now that you are here/I’d like you to write me a list/Of all the television shows you missed”, it’s like the pompous chamber rock of Arcade Fire never happened.
North Londoners Let’s Wrestle are a charming, funny and utterly real trio. If Eddie Argos suddenly found himself on Strictly Come Dancing, he’d be doing his cha-cha to this tune, mark our words. Oh, and you can bet that uncle of yours who always steals your records and then pretends to be the indie messiah, will think it’s tuneless nonsense as well. Outstanding, eh?