Tubelord - Our First American Friends

Tubelord - ‘Our First American Friends’

Hassle Records

In a music scene which frequently finds itself turning somewhat stagnant, it’s truly refreshing when a band comes along that breathes new energy into it’s genre whilst at the same time happily acknowledging it’s predecessors and influences. Kingston locals, and Banquet darlings, Tubelord, are a band that are generating a lot of interest in exactly the right areas, mainly because of the quality of both their song-writing and their musicianship. Their eagerly anticipated debut has had many scenester-types doing all sorts of sex wees in their super-tight jeans, and now that it’s finally out, it’s easy to see why.

Each song on the album has been meticulously crafted; choosing to openly ignore the verse/chorus/repeat structure that so many bands happily fall into, their appreciation of all things mathematical create meandering, shifting songs that constantly challenge the rigidity of 4/4 time scales and guitar solos. The guitars layer and clash at exactly the same time; I’ve heard it described as 4 different people playing 4 different songs, but don’t let this put you off. The songs work; I don’t know how, and quite frankly I don’t care. Tubelord are a band that haven’t made this album to become yet another Vice ‘Do’, but to write songs that evoke a menagerie of emotions in just 3 or so minutes.

A key example of this is ‘Somewhere Out There A Dog Is On Fire’ (the band have a penchant for Fall Out Boy-esque song titles), which recently featured on the sublime compilation ‘Music Sounds Better With Huw.’ The narrative, if that’s the correct term, of this and every song, is beautifully exclusive. The music isn’t there for empathy, instead it’s there to appreciate the craft that’s been put into it. This isn’t a band that sets it’s goals at your heart, it sets them at your brain.

Lead singer Joe Prendergast has a stunning, ethereal and downright androgynous voice that contrasts the sometimes raucous music perfectly. The drums are as tight as a duck’s arse and the guitar playing is an enchanting mix of Bombay Bicycle Club and a less crack-addicted At The Drive-In. ‘Night Of The Pencils’ is the song that sums up what it means to be 20+ years old: an acceptance that teenage frivolity is over, but that fun is still possible and perhaps now far more worthwhile. It’s an embracement of youth without sounding twee or childish. It’s a stunning soundtrack to being ‘twenteen’ in London and quite simply one of the most charming, seductive debuts in a very, very long time.

9/10