cravats Blurred (7", £6.25)label: overground
What on Earth is going on? No new material for decades and suddenly a second single from those sax-riddling dadaists The Cravats pops up in the year of our lard, 2016? Blurred is a pop song. Okay, it's demented and somewhat demonic but it's the band's skewiff, fuzzy felt face view of the bowel of confusion we inhabit. What do we do? Go over there? Come back again? Sit quietly waiting or wail uncontrollably? Everything is unintelligible and indistinct so squint. And why is it a pop song? Because it has 'whoos' at the end of the chorus and the Beatles had 'whoos'. Bigband is a pop song. Yes, it's teetering on the brink of cacophony, but it never quite falls off. We're all just drummers banging away in the background of someone else's bigband. We may wear the same shiny suit as the singer but we're scenery. We keep the pace. We're essential. A rimshot then a roll but always back to marking time. Step out of line and we're gone.
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