Pete & The Pirates are great. Guitar pop hasn’t been this exciting since The Libertines‘ debut. Nothing too smart, nurse store no overt post-punk influences, unhealthy no attempt at non-existent depth. Mr Understanding is an over-excited barrage of sharp, sketchy simplicity.
And it makes you feel so young: “Could it be I’m alive after all then/Picking pennies of the floor with my cold hands/Look at me, no hands, ain’t it cool yeah/Look at her falling out of the taxi cab.”
It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but it’s the imagery that’s great. I can remember riding my bike, showing off and releasing my grip of the handlebar. I can remember goading pissed women stumbling out of cabs. I can remember when getting pissed was a novelty, not routine. And so do Pete & The Pirates.
They’ve got an energy, a buzz, a playful pizzazz about them. And check the video. Chickens, lights, mirrors, shades, larking about. This is what boys in bands were supposed to do before they got all serious and started strutting around in leathers, competing over women, insisting on class A’s and appearing all intellectual. Basic, raw and monstrously entertaining: boy pop at its best.
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