The Homesick - Twst yr Wrsts

This is a brilliant pop release, driven by boredom, daydreams, living in a cut n paste Dutch town, and enlivened by a sort of home-brewed sound that is inspiringly, bullishly, tinny and processed.



(Subroutine)


Every now and again you hear something that stops you dead in your tracks. Just at the point when I thought that the wave of great alternative Dutch pop acts (something Theo Ploeg brilliantly and correctly labelled "neo-indie" in a review in The Quietus) had begun to trail off,  then up pops a whole slew of things to keep Incendiary gibbering. Sven Agaath, the new King Champion Sounds and Nouveau Velo LPs, Yuko Yuko and this, the debut "official" release by The Homesick; three charvas (two of whom are also in Yuko Yuko) who hail from Dokkum, a place where nowt much happens.

Now let's make one  thing clear from the off. This is a brilliant pop release, driven by boredom, daydreams, living in a cut n paste Dutch town, and enlivened by a sort of home-brewed sound that is inspiringly, bullishly, tinny and processed. For example, the guitar sounds on the buzzy Desire (Punk Song) are the aural equivalent of eating a lukewarm frikandel from a Smullers vending machine; as in it's yucky but moreish. And the washy beginning of All The Girls are Grey is a dreadful/brilliant lowfi take on Enya's Orinoco Flow. Or a backstage Rats on Rafts-style jam, driven by Moonshine & fags. It's that kind of throwaway attention to the "wrong"detail that makes this release great. And they have the same spirit as GBV; not that (outside of the first few bars of opener Breakfast) The Homesick sound anything remotely like GBV, but I can imagine the singer Elias doing a Bob Pollard and starting up a truck rental service, or living in his basement for the next 15 years, making an LP every fortnight.

It would be remis of me not to draw your attention to the lyrics which are at turns daft, and hilarious, and smart; and have something of Beck about them; a set of sardonic, throwaway wordplays that have that authentic Generation X feel. Listen into Friday Night (especially the vocal refrain). It's top drawer pop.

I hope for their sakes they don't get drawn into the shiny happy world of Entertainment in the Netherlands, they are far, far too good and intelligent for that, and I get the feeling they have enough balls about them to shrug off any advances from the olive eaters in the Randstad. Fucking hope so anyway.  There will be enough nobbers telling them what to do from now on. Enjoy this in all its brazen provincial simplicity.