[ad_1]
For decades, modern art has been the target of disparaging remarks, the most frequent being, “Is this really art?” At its core, modern art pushes boundaries and reflects the culture and climate in which it was created. A parallel can be drawn between modern art and the music of Dry Cleaning, a band that chafe against normalcy and ignore some central rock ‘n’ roll tenets.
First and foremost, the group’s makeup, rather than aesthetics, paved the way for their sound. Southeast London punk veterans Tom Dowse (guitar), Lewis Maynard (bass), and Nick Buxton (drums) recruited Florence Shaw (vocals), an illustrator and lecturer, so that they could play together for fun. The priority was to hang out and make music, so the members drew on an assortment of punk, post-punk, and indie rock influences.
The second and most obvious way they have shirked conventions is through Shaw’s talk-singing style (a verbal paint splatter, if you would), a manner that has no doubt led people to say, “Well, I could do that.” Her lyrics are especially subjective, whether referencing a pet tortoise (“Gary Ashby”) or a collage of images, ranging from ceramic shoes to hardy bananas to the various cities’ bouncy balls (“Scratchcard Lanyard”).
As they cling to relevance on the fringes of indie circles, Dry Cleaning return with their third LP, Secret Love, which brings them closer to the band they were meant to become but also finds them falling into familiar patterns that hold them back. When they’re performing at their best, Dry Cleaning lean into traditional post-punk influences, with pulsing bass and buzz-saw guitars, something they would be wise to prioritize over the gimmicky wordplay that put them on the map.
It seems like just yesterday Dry Cleaning was the freshest band around, on one of the most revered labels no less, but they quickly lost their status as critical darlings. After the fresh and inspired New Long Leg (2021), the band’s sophomore effort, Stumpwork (2022), felt weary and contrived. Shaw had exhausted a lifetime’s worth of random observations, and the group was forced to come up with new concepts on the fly.
Fortunately, Dry Cleaning have more carefully plotted out their next move, which feels much more assured. “Cruise Ship Designer” (brace yourself for the horn blast 30 seconds in) gives off a Wire Chairs Missing-era vibe, combining industrial and dissonant sounds with natural grooves. Theoretically, somebody has to design cruise ships, and the task would require a certain passion, likely becoming an all-consuming enterprise. The fact that this is not a common vocation helps make the track an imaginative addition.
Even though Shaw’s vocals demand our attention, the guitar work on Secret Love stands out in particular. Lead single “Hit My Head All Day” opens with a leisurely beat and contains perplexing lyrics (“When I was a child, I wanted to be a horse / Onions, carrots, and celery”), but all of this is juxtaposed with Dowse’s barbed guitar licks. In “My Soul Half Pint”, the guitar riff actually creates the melody, showcasing the instrument’s functionality.
Based on the amalgam of the lyrics and the music, it sometimes feels as if Shaw and the rest of the band are working at cross-purposes. In “Secret Love (Concealed in a Drawing of Boy)”, Shaw randomly references items over an Isaac Brock guitar phrase. The refrain brings about some cohesion, only for the intricate East-Asian flair to undermine the tender vocals. These various elements all sound charming, just maybe not together.
The more Dry Cleaning evolve, the more they can achieve qualities that sound new and dazzling. When the fierce guitar and equally vicious lyrics coalesce on “Evil Evil Idiot”, the effect is magic, if only the moment weren’t so fleeting. At various points, Shaw is given space to lean into her softer side, as on “The Cute Things”, but that quality could be played up even further, especially now that she has proven more than a mere vessel for jumbled word phrases.
Dry Cleaning may forever be too abstract for your run-of-the-mill post-punk enthusiast. Even three albums in, one would be hard-pressed to say whether the band are chilled out or nervy, contented or bitter, or aggressive or reserved. While Secret Love does little to address their inherent contradictions, the group prove more than a one-trick pony (even if it was a trick that has made them instantly recognizable). More often than not, they sound greater than the sum of their parts, which is a small step in the right direction.
[ad_2]
Patrick Gill
Source link