The 1975 attracted derision more or less on inception. The indie crowd are a fickle lot. They rarely plump for bands who seem to be ‘going pop’ – mention The 1975 to your average Warped Tour mourning rock fan and you’ll likely roll some eyes. Yet, as their indie trappings fall away, the band only grow more fascinating.
While The 1975 was a good album, the unpronounceable follow-up was the real jewel. Matty Healy embraced the semi-ironic druggie waif character with glee; a wine-slurping tender-hearted addict who tapped into the flaws of an insecure generation.
This came with pomposity and self-indulgence on an incomparable scale, compared to the fairly grounded teen drama of The 1975.
Latest single ‘TOOTIMETOOTIMETOOTIME’ (yes, really) is unlikely to convince many haters of the ills of their ways. The verbose title is one thing but the video, full of the most egregiously dressed millenials to ever stagger out of an Urban Outfitters, is another.
Yet the song itself is one of their best. With guitars gone and strung bass rounded off, the rock elements are parred down to almost nothing. But the minimalist sound hums beautifully, the simple chorus absolutely infectious. There is hardly anything to this song, but every part if perfect.
The importance of The 1975 is obvious: you simply don’t get rock this hummable, nor pop this densely written. Healy’s delivery is so singular he’s practically singing in a patois of the self – a dialect of his own making.
Hate them all you like – The 1975 are the single most compelling act in the UK at the moment, and with two albums due this year it seems there’s more where that came from.