Where Are MOR?

I woke up to the wondrously dull and dulcet tones of Shed Seven this morning. What a fucking band. It was ‘Going For Gold’, the one that goes, “I never say never, you da da da da out of my – MAAWWW THHH”. Remember? Anyway, I lay there soaking up the glorious corduroy indie music like a bee to pollen. Whatever happened to bands like that? Simple, not brash, bolshie Libertinesy simple, simple in a genuinely uncomplicated yet harmonically honeyed, familiarly fond simple.

Poor old Shed Seven (a band spawned from the hub of ingenuity that is York) contributed massively to the Britpop music scene in the 90s but never really got all the rewards that Blur or Oasis did at the time because they were just too brown and tufty compared to the bravado and sex appeal of the formally mentioned. I always loved them, there was something very appealing about their MOR drones, melodically cuddling me and leaving a stench of roll ups and suede lingering in the air. Then 2 years ago, 4 years after their official split, major venues completely sold out their tickets for the band’s reunion tour. Hazzaar! Following this was the release of a double CD featuring the best of Shed Seven’s BBC recordings. A DOUBLE CD! In my head I was secretly hoping there might be a revival in inoffensive indie a la Rick Witter and co but sadly not. The indie music scene has been awash with electronic campness and northern hoity toity pork pie hat ladz anthems. Both of which are refreshing in their own unique way but my voracious ears have been lusting after something that would soundtrack a rainy Saturday afternoon re arranging my CD collection into alphabetical order. Even when Supergrass came back last year they returned with a glitzy refurb, swapping their corduroy (sorry I know this is the second time I’ve said corduroy in this blog but it’s so apt) flares for Las Vegas Elvis one pieces.

Shed Seven – ‘Disco Down’

Then, brilliantly, I was passed on a link to a band called White Belt Yellow Tag t’other day. Not to compare them at all to Shed Seven – because I think they would probably be hugely offended by that reference – but was something reminiscent of late nineties/early noughties indie about their songs, like Doves or lovely early Coldplay. And it tickled my ears like none other has in the past 5 years of my life. They make solid, sturdy impassioned hits, with tinned vocals that will stand out like pylons amidst a lot of the saccharine, electronic warbles that will surely dominate 2009.

I’m not saying that they are going to beat a band like Dinosaur Pile-Up or Pulled Apart By Horses in a fisty cuff of venomous riffs this year, or sprinkle surreal magic over us like Empire Of The Sun or Passion Pit surely will, but they will hopefully repossess the MOR throne, knocking bands like Snowpatrol and Keane off the big old chair and on to the poufs where they deserve to lounge.

http://www.myspace.com/Whitebeltyellowtag

Check them out they are well good.