The XX – XX, the album
Is it my imagination, or did the XX come out of nowhere? One minute the band wasn’t even a blip on my aural radar – the next, they’re playing what I hear is a blinder at Electric Picnic, “living up to their debut”. Eh, what now? Sorry Jim, I totally missed that one.
So I find myself (never one to turn my nose up at the notion of bandwagoning) downloading the debut, XX, and promptly ignoring it for about a fortnight. It languished, unlistened-to and unloved, in my iTunes library until a two-and-a-half hour flight required a little more than the (now jaded, sadly) strains of MGMT’s Oracular Spectacular. Do you remember how fresh, how new, how original, MGMT seemed when the album was first released? Now it’s the sound of last summer, and will never again be the sound of now. Strange.
Originality? And oh how – the album’s opener, Intro, is the most pleasant of musical surprises, informing me in no uncertain terms that I have most definitely been missing out, within the very first 30 seconds. And the rest of the album doesn’t disappoint. Crystallised is a beautiful tune that feels like a road trip to nowhere, or like the buildup to a very good date. That sounds strange, but check it out – maybe it’s something else to you.
Lyrics are one thing, but the instrumentation is beautiful, the choruses are catchy and the drumbeats are to die for – plus, the heavy guitar line gives each of the XX’s songs a certain je ne sais quoi that most modern indie rock is lacking. Quibbles? The album’s too short, barely lasting my excruciating commute into work. Otherwise, check ‘em out and tell me you don’t love it.
The XX play New York on December 5th (four days after I leave), and then Dublin on December 19th – Ticketmaster says no tickets available, which I presume means they’re sold out but you might be lucky on the night.
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