It’s symptomatic of new music’s relentless, dizzying, thoughtless rush for the new that most of the “Best Of 2010” lists had been and gone by mid-December.
Anyone bold enough to publish a list at a sensible time – like, say, the beginning of 2011, when you can actually look at the previous year as a whole – will witness their work ingloriously flounder in a whirlwind of “Tips For 2011” lists.
This relentless pace is shortening careers, ignoring slower development and denying breathing room for everyone – bands, writers, gig-goers, everyone. This stupidity won’t change any time soon – just yesterday The Vaccines, a band who have been around for the blink of an eye, were shoved on the front of the NME and became the latest bunch of misfits to be hailed as saviours. Good luck to them.
Tripwires are a band that the NME won’t be putting on the cover because they’re ancient in modern terms – they’ve been around for over two years. Get with the program, granddad!
Cinnamon takes the usual Shoegaze starting points, but that’s not a problem – it’s more of a reflection of a specific genre’s wholly identifiable sound. No-one, for example, bothers highlighting The Vaccines’ starting points; they’re taken as read when you create another riffy rock record.
Besides, such a genuinely delicious slab of noisy, brutal-soft pop could not have been created with any other tools besides the miasmic swirl of hyper-echoed guitars, buried, frantic drumbeats and vocals that dissolve into the ether.
Cinnamon might be a blunt instrument, or it might be a deft, monstrously delicate and gossamer-thin thing of beauty – you choose. What is clear is this: here is the first great song of the year. Except, of course, that it was from last year. Perhaps that’s the point. Tripwires: Wonderful.