I had a debate once with a fellow blogger. It was more of a lukewarm debate than a heated one, but our differences couldn’t be more marked on the hoary old issue of band comparisons.
My (admittedly lightly-formed) point of view is that comparing one band with another is generally unhelpful, because you immediately sully the likelihood of their music standing on its own merit; my friend’s view was the exact opposite – that an apt comparison with an established band is the ‘gateway drug’ to the new band.
With this in mind, imagine my agony when I first heard the brilliant Polls and the only descriptive words that formed, dumb and blunt, in my head were “sounds a bit like Grandaddy.”
Well, you know, sometimes the truth hurts. Because Polls do sound a bit like Grandaddy, and that could never be a bad thing. And a song like Executive Toys, that displays all the droning, spaced and saintly qualities that peppered The Sophtware Slump, can only be regarded with the same saucer-eyed wonder.
Forming songs that capture such ethereal lightness is no mean feat, but it’s one that Polls have down pat. The songs seem elastic and woozy, blurring from one softly sleepy chord to another, and we join them, lightly bobbing on the golden, swollen surf, and wonder what all the comparative fuss was about. Lovely.