Tuesday, 4 December 2012
Lords were a complete unknown to me until three and half years ago, when I happened to catch them at the All Tomorrows Parties: The Fans Strike Back festival. The idea behind the festival was that ticket holders were entitled to cast votes for which bands they would most like to see. At the end of each week the votes got counted up and the festival organisers would go and harass the top ten bands.
Some wiley individuals realised that if they got organised and were tactical with their voting, they could pretty much guarantee getting a few of their favourites onto the list. As a consequence the festival was populated by a number of mediocre alt-wank bands that the generation Y kids with their achingly fashionable haircuts and ironic cardigans got very excited about. However, since this is also most likely how Lords got in on the act too, it's kind of hard to get too angry at them (apart from the one very tall generation Y kid with hair that was not only achingly fashionable but also the size of Neptune, who chose to stand directly in front of me as soon as they started playing).
Then again, there's nothing even remotely cool-indie-tosser about Lords; so maybe the hip kids had nothing to do with it, and I do hate every single one of them after all. Lords play - or maybe that should be played, it's not entirely clear if they're still doing this thing - the kind of scuzzy life-affirming dancin' blues that makes you want to dance and shout and punch the back of the head of the lanky cool bastard with the big hair that's standing in front of you. If there was a band called The Black Eagles Of Death Zeppelin, they would sound like this.