The other day I asked Olly Peacock, Gomez's drummer, whether it was a conscious decision to sound so ancient and blues-driven -- think Canned Heat, Tim Buckley, Little Feat, Dr. John (half of whom I like) -- and he replied that "it wasn't a conscious decision on anyone's behalf." He sounded like a good-natured chap, gruff-voiced, and on the phone all the way from Sheffield, England. "There are elements in our music that definitely lean toward that. All those bluesy touches. A lot of people of any age can do any style of music, and we just had more traditional music in our record collections that inspired us. That's where it comes from, playing music that you know."
Yeah, whatever. I saw the Flying Burrito Brothers the other night. Only one original member remained (and he joined in 1980), yet I'm sure they considered themselves "authentic," as if that word is a panacea for all evils. It's not. Bleedin' Jools Holland is authentic, and he left Squeeze 20 years ago to become a television presenter. Give me an Ace of Base or a mind-bogglingly transparent Backstreet Boys any day over Billy Corgan's portentous, riotously bad soundtrack to Stigmata. You understand what I'm saying?
"I grew up hearing the Beatles and the Beach Boys," Olly related to me, like either of us cared. "Stuff from my mum's record collection. I heard a lot of Bob Marley and the Police on the radio. I just bought all the cheesy pop music that was around -- when you're eight you just buy whatever you hear. I moved on to the rock side of things, then the Manchester indie scene diversified into Hendrix, then on to the Doors and '60s music. When you get older you become more open-minded." Old and world-weary at the ripe old age of 20? It's like sporting bum-fluff on your face while still a teenager to try to make yourself look older and "impress" the girls. Life must be a barrel of laughs in their homestead. Is their favorite TV show That 70s Show? Is that where they get those wiggy little sideburns? Do they amuse themselves in the evening by crocheting psychedelic bong covers?
"We are surprised at the attention we receive," Olly stated. I'd say he's surprised. Gomez only formed at the end of '96. I was still at the bottom of an alcoholic daze then, and Eddie Vedder was still an asshole. "It probably happened because we seemed original and fresh to people. Also people were becoming pissed off with music. Like that Brit-pop thing which was just repetitive rubbish, where record companies kept churning out ridiculous comical songs to cash in...." I think he was talking about Blur and Parklife, but you know how musicians are. They hate to be explicit. All right, so Parklife wasn't exactly The Basement Tapes, I concur, but fuck it. I, for one, was glad for that. There was more truth contained for us in one of Phil Daniels' flip Cockney mannerisms than in a thousand late night stoner sessions. Believe it.
I shouldn't be so hard on Olly, Kathleen. He loves modern music -- loads of it. It's just that he can't think of who right now. "We could sit here all day," he said to me, before hesitating for what seemed like an eternity. "Er... Red Snapper, Portishead, Björk, Dave Grey... there's so much."
But aren't the first three all variations of the same band?
Nah, don't get me wrong. It's my age, that's what all this unbecoming cynicism is about. I rather like whole sections of Liquid Skin, especially the times when gravel-throated singer Ben Ottewell growls over some slick slide guitar. The three voices dropping in and out of the mix are fine. The moments when they berate other bands for prostituting themselves on TV... that's funny. There's plenty that recalls Canned Heat's debut album, and because I'm old and because today is my day for feeling "authentic" and "blues-y," and because this damn town seems to like to view me as some sort of "rock authority," I'm becoming rather fond of Gomez's oeuvre.
Can't wait to see them "rock out" live, maaaaan. CHEERS, EVERETT
