Classic Review: Los Campesinos!

I’ve been trying to come up with some logic behind my choice for classic reviews and just realised this week that anniversaries is an obvious way to do it. So I’ve been googling albums which are reaching various milestones this month. I almost went with 50 Cent, 20 years on from his debut album, so I could reminisce on awkward white teenagers in England latching onto American gangsta rap as their music of choice (to be fair, I’m now just an awkward white man, still latching onto rappers I can’t really relate to).

But, 5 years on from that, I was a long-haired indie boy, and Los Campesinos! were releasing their debut album, Hold on Now, Youngster…

15 years old is an appropriate age for the album as it feels like it could have been made by 15 year olds. And I mean that as a compliment. There’s just a youthful exuberance to all of it. An almost amateur, ramshackle-ness (I thought I was inventing this word, but the Merriam-Webster online dictionary actually has it). It’s like they decided to throw every instrument at this, every idea they had, every reference they could think of, and managed to turn it into a joyous, weirdo, pop sound.

To give some obligatory background, Los Campesinos! are a seven-piece indie-pop group. Often cited as being from Wales, although I’m pretty sure the members aren’t Welsh (or at least most of them aren’t), but they were formed at Cardiff University. They describe themselves as “the UK’s first and only emo band”. But forget any ideas of the dorky, black-eyeliner, goth aesthetic you might associate with emo, and think more about heart-on-sleeve indie-pop anthems.

They’re still going to this day, albeit with some line-up changes along the way. I suppose they’ve become a cult-favourite band. They never really broke into the mainstream; their debut’s You! Me! Dancing! being used in a Budweiser advert is probably their closest brush with mainstream fame. But they’ve been consistently good, and critically-acclaimed, across their 6 albums to date.

Cult-favourite kind of feels right as well. They’ve probably always been a bit too weird to really make it ‘big’ with the masses. But they’re the sort of band that inspires and rewards a devoted following. Their song titles and lyrics are chock-full of references to obscure-ish festivals, bands, old footballers, and all sorts. It’s the kind of thing where you can feel smug with yourself when you have an ‘oh, I understand that one’ moment, or you’ll be looking stuff up to work out the meaning. And, for me, as someone who tended towards the more mainstream side of indie rock, they also acted as a gateway band. Providing a window into slightly weirder and more obscure pockets of indie culture – it was this little indie-pop band that got me into the hardcore punk of Black Flag and the riot grrrl punk of Bikini Kill (they covered both on early b-sides).

I was surprised recently when my teenage nephew mentioned them as one of his girlfriend’s favourite bands, so apparently they’re even inspiring a whole new generation of weirdos. And also making me feel horrendously old when I realised I could say I’d seen them live before she was born.

Los Campesinos! – This Is How You Spell “HAHAHA, We Destroyed the Hopes and Dreams of a Generation of Faux-Romantics”

This song became my favourite from the album; possibly because I’d already hammered the early singles to death by the time it came out.

The title has a bit of an embarrassing ‘pretentiousness of youth’ vibe; showing off how clever you are with abstract lines, which themselves are meant as homage to similarly abstract titles from obscure bands. But also, that’s always been part of their appeal, the pretentiousness goes full circle to become un-pretentious. As if lyricist, Gareth, is laying his whole thought process out for you to see.

And whatever wordplay and imagery this is wrapped-up in, it’s ultimately a break-up song, which is always relatable. But this isn’t the typical mourning of lost love-type break-up song, it plays more as a celebration to escaping a bad relationship; realising you probably didn’t like them that much anyway.

It has a great intro as various instruments gradually come into play, building momentum over 40 seconds. And then I’ve always loved the screech of violin, which feels like it signals a big ‘oh shit’ moment is on the horizon. That moment comes as the chorus bursts into life; the fairly restrained vocals of the verse becoming an urgent harmony of screams.

Lyrically, it ranges from quite vivid descriptive imagery; the warmth of coffee breath on your neck. To the surrealistic in the chorus; “We have to take the car ‘cause the bike’s on fire”. And they even manage to turn the song title into a catchy hook.

There’s an earnest spoken-word monologue, which feels like classic Los Campesinos! It shouldn’t really work, but it’s that heart-on-sleeve un-pretentious pretentiousness, which allows them to pull it off. And it kind of holds the whole thing together, grounding it in some melancholy amongst the blasts of noise surrounding it.

And it all ends with another triumphant round of the chorus and that ridiculous song title.

Try next: Sweet Dreams, Sweet Cheeks; By Your Hand; Avocado, Baby

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