The other day, I was walking through York and hear this band busking. The next day, I was actually relieved to find a tone-deaf bagpiper in the spot they’d previously occupied. The only thing more horrible than this lively but vapid and ultimately dull and uninspired generic indie rock is the muffled, wet blanket production. On second thoughts, the murkiness means it’s harder to make out the singer’s atrocious vowel-mangling delivery.
Frankly, I don’t care about the critical acclaim Glass Caves have received from other publications, the radio backing and their rapid swell of popularity. After all, none of this actually means they have any artistic merit. Sure, they have a certain energy, but then so does the national grid and no-one’s raving about that being the next big thing.
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The sub-Kasabian ‘Why Stay?’ is about as good as it gets, and begs the question ‘why bother?’ ‘Alive’ is brimming with cliché. No doubt, people will lap it up and their fan base will continue to expand exponentially until they’re headlining V Festival in five years’ time. People will likely mock me as the journalist who slagged off the next big thing, and that’s fine, because in time, they’ll be back to busking while scratched copies of their CDs will clutter charity shops. I can live with that.
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