(Another piece from Electric Magazine [go check them out on Facebook], I promise soon there will be more up-to-date stuff, I’m working on essays and a review of the heavenly Cat’s Eyes album)
In an age where the British Rock Institute that is the Manic Street Preachers fail to enter the Top 40 for the first time in 20 years, it’s easy to say that rock in this country is suffering a slow and painful death.
And the same can be said when we look at awards nominations for this year. Left, right and centre we see them names Jessie J, Ellie Goulding, Florence Welch and Mumford and Sons. But if we take a closer look, nestling there alongside Jessie J in the Critics Choice category, we see the possible saviours of “British Rock”, The Vaccines.
With their debut album still over a month away from release, everyone seems to be going batty about these London boys. And it’s easy to see why, truthfully. With spiked guitars and nonsensical lyrics, their recent single Post Break Up Sex has something quintessentially British about it.
It’s a shame that the arch-typical British Rock fan has become such a stereotype, the 20-something beer-swigging Lad, citing Liam Gallagher as God and looking as if Fred Perry has vommed on them. I consider myself to be a British Rock fan, and that is far from me. I wear charity shop dresses, drink JD not beer and Liam is certainly not my God, (Noel maybe, but that’s a whole different argument).
With so many bands playing up to this image, cases in point being The Enemy, The Pigeon Detectives and Beady Eye, the good bands get missed. With a renaissance on the way in the form of The Vaccines and Frankie & The Heartstrings, perhaps eschew the cool and pick up a book as you listen and not a pint.