PEACE - In Love

“The Future of indie” the Guardian declared in 2012; “It's their moment”, Eve Barlow pointed out in NME, slapping on a nice 9/10. Now, first of all we'd need to establish whether there can be any single, agreed meaning for the word indie: what do we mean by indie at this precise point in history? Are we going back to the original concept of independent, in which musical works came out through channels outside the mainstream of production and distribution, the province of less-travelled roads, of listeners obsessed with being different at all costs, of shoestring budgets and, precisely, of that in-dependence from the mainstream — or are we lumping together in the same pot everything that is image, attitude and provocation associated with a musical genre that, incidentally, isn't one at all?

And again, which moment are we talking about, Miss Barlow? A moment of socio-economic-musical stagnation that offers nothing but re-visitations of past works, or an era that can draw life force from uncertainty to reinvent itself, to lay the foundations of something really independent?

If we took Barlow's side we'd all genuinely be happy: Peace, four “misfits” from Worcestershire, would be the band of the year. Magazine-ready poses, with the inevitable greasy hair and the face of someone exhausted at the mere thought of washing too often; a shrewd, hipster-ish sense of dress; a “little label” called Columbia Records; an album, “In Love”, the product of an unsettling collage of the contemporary music market. So, on headphones, we get tracks from (in alphabetical order): Darkness, Everything Everything, Foals, The Libertines, Lightspeed Champion, The Kooks, The Maccabees, The Music, Smashing Pumpkins, The Strokes.

The Koisser brothers, Harry (vocals, guitar) and Samuel (bass), along with Douglas Castle (guitar) and Dominic Boyce (drums), bask in patriotic glory, but “In Love” is a record that truly gives little to the listener's emotions. The sadness of a remake of a remake, paired with a dominant vocal personality, make this band one of the most tangible demonstrations of what, these days, “business” within the independent circuit actually means. Harry Koisser is already poised to launch his solo venture, ready to fill arenas, flanked by a few session musicians and by “girls waiting” in dressing room number one, scented with caviar and champagne.

Let's read the record. Track one, “Higher Than The Sun”: South London drums and guitars (Maccabees of “Wall Of Arms“) and sounds close to some early-2000s summer hit. Track two, “Follow Baby”: welcome back Billy Corgan and his mid-Nineties pumpkins, with vocal inflections borrowed from the forgotten The Music; track three, “Lovesick”: probably the two minutes that best sum up who Peace are now, from the lyrics to the melodies; track four, “Float Forever”: Dev Hynes (Lightspeed Champion, Blood Orange) must have smiled sarcastically on hearing that someone, somewhere in the world, noticed his potential and chose to amusingly copy-paste from the tracks of his second LP (“Life Is Sweet! Nice To Meet You”); track five, “Wraith”: the lead single, beach melodies and warm waves, with a cameo appearance from a member of Everything Everything.

Pause.

Track six, “Delicious”: funky, fresh, Foals-like, with Koisser's eclectic voice mimicking that of fellow frontman Luke Pritchard (The Kooks); track seven, “Waste Of Paint”: funky grooves – again – with interesting vocal harmonies in the chorus, marred by throwaway guitars; track eight, “Toxic”: the vocalist strolls confidently through territory already thoroughly tilled by Pritchard, wrapped in backing vocals and glam-rock guitars straight out of latter-day Darkness; track nine, “Sugarstone”: sweet arpeggiated guitar notes, stadium lighters, a ballad built for swapping spit; track ten, “California Daze”: the end track in which we hear something incredible: not for its sixties-style counter-melodies à la Beach Boys or Simon and Garfunkel, but because “California Daze” would be a fitting title, if only because it closes a 2007 album, “Colour It In”, back when it was called “Toothpaste Kisses” and was sung by the Maccabees.

Peace aren't the band of the year, they're the UK's commercial pick of the year: the right age, a laid-back attitude, predictable sounds in line with what a market already saturated with similar offerings demands. One gets the feeling that the gap between the vocalist and the band will widen considerably in the future, leaving the latter trapped in the modern, claustrophobic notion of success and fame, where individuality reigns unchallenged.

Never disproved is better than accepted.

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google

09/04/2013