Song of the day – 471: Savages

Here’s a list of places that have written about UK band Savages before the first seven-inch has been released: NME, Pitchfork, The Stool Pigeon, The Quietus, The Daily Telegraph … but I’m getting bored with this list already. You take my point? Savages are what used to be called a ‘buzz’ band. That means someone is doing their job properly, either at the record label, within the band or working for the ‘alternative’ press. Or all three, of course. Sure, it doesn’t hurt that the brace of songs I’ve heard by Savages are so fucking AWESOME (and, one would imagine, their live shows match) but it is relatively unusual that ‘buzz’ bands are any good – the motivating factor for getting them known isn’t usually musical. But this one comes recommended (to me) via Lucy Cage and Verity Susman, and that’s easily enough for me to want to figure out who they are.

And… my Bangs… they’re fine. Gothic (small ‘g’) and barbed, with songs that feel like they’re constantly on the verge of exploding: in my head it’s 1978, not that it is anywhere else. Obviously. I’m just saying I remember early Factory Records, I remember Malaria!, I remember bands that battled with demons that were all the more scary for being real, and I remember being never quite sure where it was all going to end up. (Yes, obviously there are other years I could cite here – roughly 34 of them, it’s just that I am part of a zeitgeist from the past, and cannot avoid it). Dark alleyways, and forgotten trysts. Dark imaginings, and useless trust. Silent screaming. Makes you wish YouTube was never invented, it dilutes what’s real so ably. It could be The Cravats, or someone.

Here’s the Soundcloud for the song that has taken my head apart. (The fucking page doesn’t embed properly.)

(Back o’ my mind before I reached the page I was thinking, how great is this song gonna fucking be, if Lucy Cage was recommending it on Facebook?)

(Pretty fucking great.)

Don’t watch the video, listen to the Soundcloud. Go to the record label for the seven-inch. There’s a noticeable variance in sound quality. The video is for the visuals, you may want to look at it to note that they look AND sound glacier cool. But this sounds much better.

(Listen to the song above three times over. At least. It’ll make you feel like you’re skating blood and gouging intensity. There’s yelping. There’s guitar as taut as fucking taut does. There’s brevity. There’s …)

Here. Have another listen.

by Everett True

My name is Everett True. I am a music critic. This is what I do. I criticise music. The clue is in my job description – music critic. I do not consider myself a journalist, as I do not research or report hard news. I do not consider myself a commentator as I believe that everyone should be a participant. I criticise people and in return I am not surprised if other people criticise me. It is part of the whole deal of being in the public arena. I am Everett True. Believe in me and I have power like a God. Quit believing in me and I no longer exist.