Rising from the ashes of Scottish indie ne’er-do-wells Yummy Fur (former home to Franz’s Alex Kapranos and Paul Thomson) and V Twin, this so-hot-right-now trio fashion supremely whacked-out party music.
With a forthcoming BudRising appearance, Irish music fans are cordially invited to join their sonic shindig. 1990s have laid on a regal buffet, a gourmet spread of Stonesy stylings, don’t give-a-damn Iggy attitude and to-die-for Velvets cool. Resistance is futile; to paraphrase their aptly-named single, they’ll make you like it.
Mind you one thing they’ll never make us like is their name. Even frontman Jackie McKeown has to admit that when it comes to crap monikers, 1990s are in a league of their own.
“You want the truth? The only reason we’re called 1990s is because we were originally called 1960s, which was the single worst name I could think of,” he divulges. “And then one of us went, ‘Ya know what; 1990s is worse, let’s pick that!’”
Contrary buggers they may be, but the dire name has been no impediment to 1990s’ success. Picked up by Rough Trade in double-quick time, they soon found themselves playing support to Scottish rock aristocracy and old chums Franz Ferdinand. Not bad going considering that 1990s was only meant to be a bedroom fling.
“After Yummy Fur I was sick of the whole band thing,” Jackie admits. “1990s was never meant to leave Michael’s (McGaughrin, drums/vox) bedroom. It was to be something that we did at home for fun. Eventually we got talked into doing a few gigs around Glasgow. Within three months we were signed and next thing we’re playing in front of 10,000 people at a Franz Ferdinand show. We managed to avoid the crap bit of being stuck in transit vans. We’d done all that for years before and it’s really irritating. No getting paid, having nowhere to stay, you cannae get a wash anywhere, just miserable.”
McKeown has some sage advice for aspiring bands: ditch the game plan and fast-track success will follow. Strategies are for the desperate.
“No game plan,” Jackie confirms. “We hadn’t sent out demos, weren’t begging labels to notice us. It happened because we were very ‘whatever’ about it. Like when you’re single and you go on the pull, the girls can smell the desperation off you, you’ve no chance. 1990s weren’t out on the pull and as a result we are getting seriously laid.”
Expect the good times to continue when McKeown and his mates open their Dublin account next month.
“1990s are a good time band, we demand a party atmosphere,” he declares. “It’s not introspection, so don’t come wearing your raincoat expecting me to tell you all the miseries of splitting up with my girlfriend. Get dancing, we’re a fun group, there’s nothing intellectual about it. I think Irish fans will get it a lot faster than most, youse guys are up for a good time. I know that sounds like the usual guff, but I genuinely mean it. Irish people have a healthy disregard for morose bands, and 1990s are anything but. We’re here to make your life better!”