Released 3rd November 2014
Infectious Records
8/10
As far as album releases go, the tail end of 2014 has been an incredibly exciting time—there’s been Syro, You’re Dead!, Tomorrow’s Modern Boxes, Our Love, High Life, LP1… you get the idea. But it doesn’t take a genius to see that there’s a recurring theme, one which points towards an electronic chokehold on many popular artists’ imaginations at present. So when the spirited Superfood appeared on the Birmingham radar last year, it was exciting to see that guitar music could still sound fresh, even in the era of the DJ.
Running deep throughout their debut album, the somewhat rebellious lack of care to fit in with the current musical norm, of bass and wannabe psychadelia, skips side-by-side with a twisted sound palette that instead focuses on high-ends and fuzzy 90s sass. What’s more, there exists a perfect relationship between the final record and the band’s lifeblood; a juxtaposition of high-quality production teasing out a rugged attitude and nonsensical catchiness that acts as the perfect guilty pleasure. And that’s exactly what this album serves to be—an exciting break from the overly serious, a bowl of Frosties for your tea.
Don’t get me wrong, this album is never trashy or bland; what’s more, it even makes guitar music feel fucking cool again. Between the grungy discordance of ‘Superfood’ or ‘TV’ and the whiney hip-hop laden ‘Lily Pad For You To Rest On’ and blurry groove of ‘You Can Believe’, the entire album is a throwback to the sunny carefree times of the 90s.
Unfortunately, the beefy tracks initially released last year on Soundcloud (‘TV’ and ‘Superfood’), which comprised that first taste which got me hooked, seem to have been on diet on the run-up to the album release. Their reworking, most likely the result of their live renditions, seems to have left the tracks sounding rawer albeit weaker.
Nevertheless, Don’t Say That has, respectfully and seemingly out of nowhere, not only breathed life into my bedroom dance routine but also into a music scene which was left ravaged by the indie shitstorm spun by the NME.
