I keep hearing this joke about a band, apparently they look like year elevens on work experience nipping out of the office for a fag. They think it's a giggle to make like Mark E Smith covering the Klaxons and play the same two bars of an 'eclectic' Shoreditch DJ set faster and faster and faster until the heaving rows of aspiring young models explode leaving only scraps of expensive size 6 clothing cloaked in the fumes of unknowable cool.
The best precursor I've found to the Xerox Teens school of gigging is a quote from Sounds hack Gary Bushell: "Post-punk is thought of as something rather po-faced and sober, but a lot of it was funny. We used to go to gigs and laugh like a drain". I've heard this joke at least ten times now. Twice I couldn't hear it because it sounded like my dictaphone being played through the Wembley PA, which made it even funnier. Apparently they chose their first sound engineer because they thought he was a fabulous liar. Four times I've seen it turn sangfroid Artrockers into hysterical tweenage fangirls with sodden knickers. In fact, I think I must've heard it at every damn indie disco in town but not once have I doubted its ability to make me fall to my knees in fits of mirth.
The point being that this is not a slur against the Xerox Teens' status as purveyors of excellent new music. Where once we spoke of the classic disco bass line it is certain we will one day speak of the classic Xerox Teens bass line. The repetition is a cliché, but only in the way in which blowjobs are a cliché - you don't see them going out of fashion. And if you write a bass riff that's as classic as a top notch blow job, well, you're hardly going to stop at one and go orienteering on weekends instead because you've done blowjobs, are you now? Naturally you'll want to repeat the experience until it gets boring, which it won't.
The following, however, quite possibly is a slur on their brilliant music. You see, they masquerade as pleasant young gents but stick a dictaphone under their noses, and, well... Dr Jekyll turns into Mr Hyde but learns some knob gags along the way. Having interviewed them twice, I can't quite work out whether they have a philosophical objection to answering questions about their music, or whether the whole 'philosophical objection' slant flatters them, ie. they're just young guys who'd rather be chasing tail at the White Heat club than getting interrogated backstage. We eventually manage to distract them from complaining about their rider, ("you must be making a killing! Where's my case?"), and ask them some questions, but still we have a problem. Rich Novu - that's the bassist with the seductive handlebar moustache and white vest combo to you - does not believe that we have done our research properly.
"We've always had a brass section. Haven't you seen us with our brass section?"
PlayLouder swears on someone's mother's life that on none of the ten occasions we've has seen Xerox Teens have they had a brass section.
"Do you actually know who we are?"
We defend our fangirl credentials but cannot be heard above Danny Fancy, who is bemoaning the employment laws that prevent him hiring and firing talented female saxophonists as often as he'd like.
"It's very hard these days to have slaves."
Having obviously missed these particular gigs, we request that we can at least be allowed to imagine the full spectacle. Rich Cash, (singer who claims the reason he stands next to the drum kit is because he's "shy") obliges.
"Three trumpets and a saxophone. One really tall man and one really really short girl. Man with a horse's leg. And some dancers. Have you seen the dancers?"
Only six minutes in and PlayLouder is contemplating hiring goons to beat some sensible answers out of them. Our groans of discontent cannot be heard above Danny Fancy, who is saying something libellous about Michael Barrymore. We ask them about their new tracks. The response is positive but non specific so we press.
"Imagine Darlin', play it backwards, but put over the words, 'I am eating my own shit'. And you're coming close." Danny Fancy is a man of many words and most of them are related to bodily functions.
"One in the bum is worth two in the bush."
You may think you hear us laughing, but you're wrong. What you are actually hearing is the sound of a good four decades of feminism getting flushed down the pan by some prick who can fart the tune to 'Deceptacon'. Just for that, I'm going to ask you what your songs actually mean. Man.
"'Onkawara' is about love and loss. 'B54' is about love in a loft. It's about how people don't insulate their houses enough because of global warming. It's illustrating a serious point."
Of course, I was purposefully rubbing them up the wrong way, as their songs are well renowned for being lyrically nonsensical. Not even psychedelic nonsense, just gibberish. The Klaxons write psychedelic sci-fi nonsense because they think it's far more fun. Xerox Teens write gibberish because if you were to have even a shred of meaning the sincerity that crept in with it would put paid to your enviable cool.
"Anyway, we've made a video, did you know that?"
No.
Seemingly superfluous guitarist Uber breaks his silence, "We've made a video for 'B-54'. PlayLouder are going to FUCKING GO CRAZY."
Is it one of those boring videos where it's you playing the song, or is there a concept?
"It's in black and white and we're playing live and all our friends are dancing around us going 'Wooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!'
"The thing is it starts off looking like it's going to be boring, just us in a room. And then, at the end... All our mates come in!"
B boom bhh.
"And then we all give each other high fives, like, 'Good take lads!'"
"It's a mixture of The Last Temptation of Christ, Perfume, My Bloody Valentine, the McDonalds advert, Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, and the Budweiser advert with the frog."
Don't touch Danny Fancy, he's on fire.
Xerox Teens have been talking about McDonalds for about a minute when I suggest we might have gone a little off topic. Now our interview technique comes under scrutiny.
"You aren't going to get the material like this! You need to sit down, like this, [drapes his arm around PlayLouder in a Kilroy-Silk way], now, Sarah, you know what it's like to be a Muslim don't you?"
Dictaphone switches off - perfect gents once more.
Don't get me wrong. If I had to chose between this and Kele Okereke... Take the 'Random' path, the 'Meaningless' path and you can end up at a statement as bold and beautiful as the one you see here. Because you're following an impulse, that impulse being in this case to play the same bass riff over and over. Articulating your thoughts is a clumsy, stilted process in the wrong hands.
'Darlin' does not articulate anything other than the exact sound of knowing you are at the very best party in town. That is why it is cool. I don't think arrogance and casual chauvinism are cool though.
Danny, what should I ask you about if you don't like being asked about music? He thinks for a while.
'Pussy.'
Way to shoot yourself in the foot. Buy the music. Just don't ask any questions.
Sarah Dawson
'Onkawara' / 'b54' is out this week on Big Billy records
