The Jane Bradfords
Deci from the Jane Bradfords is singing his song of love. The way he tells it to the girl, she's just won a gold ticket and the prize is uh, his heart. But should we feel glad for her? The trouble is, we're not sure if he's gonna send her flowers or severed body parts. Watch out, fair ladies of Ulster, it could be you...
Y'see, the Jane Bradfords are a little bit cute but with a severe seasoning of gloom. They may wear T-shirts with ironic slogans in felt tip, but spiritually, they're wearing long overcoats, all the better to ward off the chill winds of Manchester, circa 1979. Even their vintage synths have the mortal air of things past. All the better to summon up those spectres, then.
What justifies the JBs is the tunes and the big choruses. Consciously or not, they're starting to write pop songs. The baritone murmurings and the analogue drum beats just happen to work into the scheme. And while the style of the music often signals defeat, the band manages to rally for the refrains, pushing the music towards some ragged hosanna. In this respect, they are closer to the Arcade Fire and those other Canadian soul-rousers.
They seem to be in some transitional stage, between the pose and the real deal, the aspiration and the jackpot. It all hangs on those lucky numbers.
Photos by Stuart Bailie