The Loves – Live At The BBC / The Cords – The Cords / The Last Of The Lovely Days – No Public House Talk

“Hey hey, my my, indie-pop can never die,” as Neil Young didn’t quite sing. From the boom years during the 1980s and into the 1990s, through a lower-profile but still fecund 2000s to 2010s and into the ongoing revival of the 2020s, the combination of independent-mindedness and a deep-seated love of melody, has sustained a cross-generational thread. The following three releases – one archival and two brand new – convincingly confirm this somewhat comforting sense of continuity and survivalism, whilst also capturing the internal diversity of it all.

Having passed this writer by almost completely in their initial lifespan, Precious Recordings’ Live At The BBC LP acts as an educative catch-up exercise for The Loves.

The Cardiff-birthed band – driven by the vision of founder and commander-in-chief Simon Love — spun through thirty-seven members between 2000 and 2011, putting out a substantial series of singles and albums through Track & Field and Fortuna Pop! along the way. This compendium gathers eight live cuts for John Peel (a seven-song set at Maida Vale, plus one from a later sojourn at Peel Acres) and a further eight rounded up from various playing-on-air visits to Marc Riley in Salford.

What these recordings from the group’s original run might miss in terms of finesse and fidelity are largely compensated for in terms of colourful and characterful performances. Leaning less into stereotypical Johnny Marr-meets-C86 tropes and more into garage-pop ‘n’ roll shapes, these sixteen tracks romp along with rambunctious gusto.

Consequently, across the first half of these extracts from the BBC vaults, we’re provided with a depoliticised answer to The Make-Up (“Depeche Mode”); lashings of Nuggets-like noisemaking (“Little Girl Blues” and “Just Like Bobby D”); Phil Spector-ish-bubble-gum-in-a-basement (“Boom-A-Bang-Bang-Bang”); and a wonkily warm take on Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend”). Elsewhere, amongst the taped Riley radio show appearances, we find warped flashbacks to the Grease soundtrack (“Honey”); sideways waves to The Seeds (“Sweet Sister Delia”); and a fittingly super-chugged cover of The Velvet Underground’s “Guess I’m Falling In Love”).

Whilst possibly an acquired taste for some ears, it’s hard not to be stirred by this salvaged selection of spirited retro savvy from The Loves.

Shifting right up the present, albeit with connections to an evident artistic ancestry, is the eponymous debut from Greenock’s The Cords, courtesy of the still-fresh partnership between Skep Wax and Slumberland Records, which also recently brought us charming albums from Jeanines and Lightheaded to both sides of the Atlantic.

This full-length studio set forged by youthful sisters Eva and Grace Tedeschi – featuring the former on vocals and guitar, the latter on drums and with both adding occasional extra instrumentation – is an extraordinarily potent distillation from the past masterworks of the DIY jangle trade.

Through the baker’s dozen pieces, there’s barely a crotchet or quaver of sonic fat within the trim thirty-one-minute runtime. Instead, we’re adroitly transported through Heavenly-style hook-embedding bliss (“Fabulist”, “October” and “Vera”); sped-up Shop Assistants salutes (“You” and “Bo’s New Haircut”); a divine rough-hewn homage to early-Lush (“Yes It’s True”); shimmering yet stomping callbacks to The Vaselines (“Done With You”); and balmy harmony-cascading wistfulness (“Weird Feeling” and “When You Said Goodbye”).

Although the influences are readily and unrepentantly manifest, it’s the utterly soaring and remarkably steely execution that ultimately makes this such an infectiously sublime launchpad for The Cords.

Constructed by a comparatively more mature ensemble that draws from similar as well as different period wells comes another debut long-player, in the shape of No Public House Talk from The Last of the Lovely Days on Gare du Nord Records.

Containing the talents of Annie O’Rourke (vocals and synths), Jimmy Lager (guitars, keys and vocals), Michael Eyers (bass, guitars, banjo and synths) and Paul Portinari (drums and percussion), with a guest spot from Freq-favourite Keiron Phelan (vocals and flute), this is a textured and eclectic yet richly tuneful conception.

It imagines, for the most part, what might have happened if Kirsty MacColl had collaborated with choice players in the ‘80s-to-‘90s guitar-led underground crowd and not signed to a major label. Thus, this means moving through exquisitely rugged Jesse Garon & The Desperadoes-meets-The Motorcycle Boy folk-rock (“Runaway” and “Away From Me”); tiered-vocal radiance with hints of The Jasmine Minks (“To The Earth”); early-Teenage Fanclub fuzz-sawing (“Drink Away Our Love”); reverbed echoes of The Primitives (“See Me”); and the most carefree-sounding of Smiths B-sides (“Wrong Side” and “Pale Blue Me”).

The most ‘none of the above’ moment is saved until last, with “Two Rings Don’t Make A Right” finding O’Rourke duetting with Phelan in a likeably sultry cocktail bar setting. Replete with resourceful angles and arrangements, as well as thoughtful songcraft, No Public House Talk is a welcoming formal inauguration affair from The Last Of The Lovely Days.

-Adrian-