Funk-tinged pop to an audience engrossed in the fashion for fusion.
Keira Burgess 2009
The London scene's latest darlings bring their funk-tinged pop to an audience engrossed in the fashion for fusion.
Having presided over their own club night, toured with the Mystery Jets and won the blessing-come-curse of a contest that is the Glastonbury new band competition, Golden Silvers finally get around to presenting their self-branded 'undeniable' debut.
According to frontman Gwilym Gold, the trio want to be as far from an average contemporary indie band as possible. Based on their first longplayer, they have partially achieved this, although what CD cabinet or music library it belongs in but that of the average contemporary indie fan is hard to say.
There is of course the look, which automatically binds them to the tribe of alternative cool; one glance and it's suddenly easier to hear similarities to Calvin Harris and MGMT in the material. But placing aesthetics aside, this is a fairly atypical effort.
Admittedly, both single choices are appropriately 'now' in their hybrid-electro tone. True No 9 Blues with spoken-word hook is so 80s it would sit nicely on the soundtrack of an Easton Ellis movie, while Arrows of Eros is straight out of a lurid 70s disco.
Those expecting more of the same will be pleasantly surprised, as the majority of True Romance is more considered and infinitely more interesting.
The Seed is a lament owing much to Medieval folk, while the band's favoured three-part harmonies give Here Comes The King a touch of 50s vocal group nostalgia. The lyrics can at times be clichéd: Gold's Barat-like voice is somewhat irksome as he sings of troubadours and pretty boys, but in vocal terms it's the execution rather than the content that takes priority on this project.
The band assert that their output is pan-seasonal, but with this collection they've not yet formed a stable enough basis to assure their long-term staying power.