Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. Young underground Minneapolis band with self-released album creates electric buzz through the indie-schmindie music blogs. They wow them at the South by Southwest festival. In common with most of the developed world, they have a history with MySpace. The frontman – Josh Grier – sings with archly angular outsider anger (“No sex and no sleep”, he rages on hopped-up rockabilly quick-step ‘In Houston’) in a manner that immediately recalls Frank Black and Stephen Malkmus. They are swiftly hailed as this month’s Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, the new Arcade Fire until next Tuesday, a Wolf Parade for right here, right now.
So yes. Tapes ‘n Tapes are all of these thoroughly modern things. Just another Pitchforked tale. They use narcotic distorted guitars. They tinker with oddball instrumentation. Their sound is post-Pixies, post-Pavement, post-Feelies neoclassicism. But oh my word, they are good at it. There’s a grungy grandeur about closing number ‘Jakov’s Suite’ that no sane person could walk away from.
Besides, this elegant sense of pastiche has an originality all of its own. ’10 Gallon Ascots’ combines alt-country minimalism and a grand glam stomp. 'Cowbell' might be Stephen Sondheim writing with Mark Lanegan. ‘Buckle’ is The Hollies opening for Sonic Youth.
On ‘The Loon’, an endlessly entertaining series of Proustian rushes, Tapes ‘n Tapes have mastered being jacks of all trades. You know you’re in a garage somewhere, but anything might happen. Please don’t let the hype drag them down.