Danny Boyle’s bizarro Olympics opening ceremony – with its WFT-slathered juxtaposing of Fuck Buttons, David Beckham, James Bond and David Holmes – has drawn near-universal praise. Let it be noted, though, that not everyone’s chugging the Kool-Aid.

“Britain was presented in such a narrow clichéd way,” sighs Wild Beasts frontman Hayden Thorpe, he of that creepy but wondrous eunuch croon. “While I hate to sound like a cynical old bugger, I don’t think our most creative and interesting face was put forward. It didn’t represent what, to me, Britain is.”
So if Boyle had called up looking to use a Wild Beasts track in the ceremony – when Becks was tootling down the Thames with the Olympic flame, say – they’d have turned him down flat?
“I don’t want to be hypocrite,” says Thorpe. “I can’t imagine saying ‘no’, not with a viewership of billions. I’m not criticising Danny Boyle – what I was surprised by was how unequivocally positive everyone’s response to the opening ceremony was. For what it represented it was great. The point is that it was somebody’s version of Britain. Not mine. It made me feel alienated.”
If they ever start handing out gold medals for gender-upending independent rock Wild Beasts will surely be top of the podium. Over three albums they’ve waged subtle war on British machismo, its traditional conflating masculinity and simian lairiness.
“We try to break down this cliché of what’s masculine and feminine,” he explains. “The way I’ve sung I’ve always had people assuming I was gay or effeminate or whatever. Whereas in fact I think there’s a great dynamic richness to men and women.”
He goes so far as to suggest Wild Beasts, with their format-defying sophistication and touchy-feelie themes, might be the anti-Oasis.
“As a kid I adored Britpop, of course I did. Once I reached 16 I got disillusioned. I had this realisation that Liam Gallagher is not a good guy, you know? That whole scene was an old boys’ club – boring and bland and safe.”
Since Smother came out last year, Wild Beasts have toured unceasingly (their best ever gig was a show in Cork, says Thorpe). With things finally starting to wind down they’re thinking about returning to the studio. The ambient, multi-layered Smother was a curve ball after 2010’s more conventional, Mercury-nominated Two Dancers. Expect their next LP to mark yet another directional veer.
“You should always make the record you want to make, not the record you think people want to hear,” Thorpe observes. “We’re in the fortunate position where people are quite interested in whatever we do next. Oddly, the risky option would be to play it safe. With Smother, we could have made another Two Dancers... only not as good. We chose a different option. We’ll do the same this time I think.”
He’s clear about one thing, however. If they’re to write another record, they’ll have to get off the road sooner rather than later.
“Touring does not make for interesting songs. It makes for broken minds and broken bodies. You don’t live in the realms of normal society. Going back to the real world can be quite exciting... all that watching and observing. We’re looking forward
to it.”