Sarandon Kill Twee Pop! by: Thomas Mendelovitis Fri:13-Jun-08 Label: Slumberland Year: 2008 WB rating 74 out of 100

The British have a remarkable knack for social satire not found in the music tradition of any other (at least Western) country. With a band name presumably lifted from Susan and choosing the most cringe-worthy of song titles for their record, Sarandon have sold themselves short. Across the 12 minutely pointed tracks of second full-length Kill Twee Pop! we find at least enough wit and cutting commentary to assail any fears as to the decency of the band. Lacking the commercial viability of the new Britpop’s better-known purveyors, Sarandon will always be in the second tier – a place well-suited to their lo-fi sound. However, with more bollocks than the movement’s worst products (The View, The Wombats, The Kooks, The Fratellis, or any of the other cruddy ‘The’ bands), Sarandon prove a valuable contributor to their nation’s fine tradition of gritty punk and scathing lampooning as lead today by notables Art Brut, Future of the Left and The Futureheads.

The cornerstone of this kind of music is the gift of making the mundane interesting, or at least funny. If they have this, they will succeed. Sarandon make the ‘comment’ their raison d’être and in doing so with a rare consistency, Kill Twee Pop! offers many a rare pleasure in return. Furthermore, each song tackles its chosen target with enough panache to be seldom boring. The topics targeted include hipsterdom (‘Kill Twee Pop!’), the awkwardness of being a musician in “the scene” (‘Welcome’, ‘Joe’s Record’, ‘Massive Haircut’) and infuriating acquaintances (‘Lippy’, ‘Mike’s Dollar’). ‘Massive Haircut’ is a self-consciously silly take on the sometimes-ridiculous lengths musicians will go to to be different. After describing some of his more errant fashion choices, singer Crayola concedes “I try to be cool, I act like a fool/deep down I wish you would stop me/but you just laugh behind my back at me and my massive haircut”. It’s funny, but underpinned by a rare honesty.

Even the grave and difficult subject of ‘growing up’ is done with humour and insight (‘Mark’, ‘Remember Mavis?’). A dedication of sorts to Crayola’s older brother, ‘Mark’ reflects implicitly on the potentially straining differences of personality between siblings: “my brother had a phone put in his room at 13 and called downstairs to ask Mum for a cup of tea… my brother got his first got job at the age of 16/bought a suit and tie and overnight became 33”. These lines, which almost make up the entire song, echo perfectly the dissatisfaction felt by Crayola in the fraternal bond. The song ends with a mention of their father’s death and the change this effected on ‘Mark’. It’s moving stuff and, set to the album-standard early 80s rhythmic punk backbeat, unexpectedly good.

If Sarandon reach their market, they should do well; Kill Twee Pop! is outlandish, concise and exuberant enough to attract many lovers of rhythmically and lyrically sharp rock. Obviously, though, like most music with such a clearly defined modus operandi, they aren’t for everyone. And anyone with even a passing crush on the… well, twee delights of outright sunny pop will probably hate this. Of course, the truth is that hating ‘twee pop’, or any other genre, is hating the reification of expression found therein, yet in pursuing their own course with such fervour Sarandon invite the same polemic attitudes towards themselves. In so abrasively titling their latest album, however, Sarandon reveal a facet of the musical/pop-cultural landscape and what must be a frustrating dilemma between either pleasing all or pursuing one vision and not coming across hackneyed and bland as a result. Amazingly, however, Sarandon succeed in doing all three: there are moments of cuteness, innovation and sass all present on Kill Twee Pop!. Even with the Windows Vista, eBay and YouTube references, Sarandon are crustily authentic enough to talk of ‘‘A’ badges’, hotpants and Mavis getting a job at Barclays. With Franz Ferdinand wallowing in ever-growing self-consciousness and the Arctic Monkeys suffering from a distinct lack of consistency and verve, Sarandon could be just what the doctor ordered for the new BritPop (and that’s not even considering the shite).