The World Cup is one week away. One week! I’m so excited about the World Cup that I’m beyond the joyful constant-vibration stage and well into the much darker, more worrying “buy any associated merchandise within grabbing distance” phase.
The best thing about the World Cup – after the football itself – is the crud that surrounds it.
Crud like this tie-in dirge-song, which, astonishingly, is Serbia’s official World Cup anthem. Or maybe more grouchy, neurotic and home-spun crud like this surprisingly risible effort by Mark E. Smith from The Fall. This kind of hit-and-hope tosh clings magnetically to big football tournaments, and in all honesty, the world is a much better, if less tuneful, place for it.
Multi-rhythmic, expansive and arty: Sunglasses won’t be making a desperate football tie-in song any time soon.
Perhaps they ought to, because their international, whirling sound reeks of dizzy hustle and bustle. Songs like Stand Fast are so dense and multi-layered that other bands could construct a whole album of songs from the contents.
There’s a strange, and seductive, contrast within their songs: lush, creamy sounds jutting roughly against the lo-fi so-what ethics of the composers. Stand Fast sounds like it was put together hap-hazardly, with all the faders pushed up and all fingers crossed for good luck.
This might ring true if it wasn’t for the fact that all their other songs are just as daringly assembled, and just as successful.
It would of course be hugely glib to make a comparison between Sunglasses and a footballer to round off the whole article, but hey, this is ANBAD, not Time magazine.
So: Sunglasses would be 1994’s surprise top-scorer Gheorghe Hagi: left-footed, mercurial, obscure, brilliant.