24th February | Fleece
One album and everyone’s wetting themselves with excitement about The Orielles. One Silver Dollar Moment and everyone’s hailing them as gold medallists in the Indie Kid Olympics. What is it that makes them a merry band surrounded by such expectation and hype? And does ‘hype’ stand for hyperbole (inevitable within the industries of music PR and music journalism) or hyperactivity (inevitable within the management of human limbs when faced with the punch-drunk funk of a tune such as ‘Blue Suitcase (Disco Wrist)’?
There’s such connoisseurship in the composition of siblings Sidonie B and Esmé Dee Hand Halford and their friend, Henry Carlyle Wade. That’s not a pretentious way of suggesting that they’re aloofly showy-offy, rather a roundabout way of addressing the “what’s all the fuss about?” conundrum. Every song is a sonic Scooby sandwich, a multi-decker music lover’s feast, the only difference being that Scooby Doo would lash any old shite between two slabs of bread. Their songs are so eclectically but elegantly layered that Gregg Wallace would either offer to shag or marry one on Masterchef.
Whether it’s for the shoegazey ‘Sugar Tastes Like Salt’, the C86 joys of ‘Let Your Dogtooth Grow’ or the disco-rich ‘Bobbi’s Second World’, with the addition of Alex Stephens on keys, get thee to The Fleece on Sunday night to see The Orielles. Remember to wear your incontinence pants.
See the video for ‘Let Your Dogtooth Grow’ here: