Postcard and Envelopes

Neil Jones on Envelopes, Good Shoes and The Moths at Cardiff's Clwb Ifor Bach

June 26th, 2007

Young eager faces haunt the secret side alley of Womamby Street, photographers’ flashes and a troupe of identiclad hairspray kids going off around them like the commerce carnival’s in town. If you’ve developed the hapless art of reading into things before gigs, you’ll often observe certain signs that put you on a downer from the start, and as we trickle into the venue to be greeted by the generic glam guitar wielding pomposity of The Moths some deep laying fears are realised.

The Moths are the kind of band who cling to the very bottom of the industry ladder, existing with a painfully self-conscious duty, and their music is a mirror image of … well, their image, throwing postures and sneaking furtive looks at itself in the mirror when it should be reeling and shimmering with the myriad poetry of existence. For The Moths it’s the recycle bin I’m afraid, where they’ll soon be deleted into the ether.

I’ll not hold you to ransom any longer by revealing that I’m running the gauntlet tonight solely for Envelopes, and it’s with a terrible kind of self-fulfilling prophecy that they appear and are absolutely fantastic. A variegated troupe of the kind you mostly find in Sweden these days (or at least the Sweden that exists in my imagination, one of supra-refined Pop tendencies and untouched indie charm), guitarist in vest and brown-rimmed glasses, his female co-guitar-wielder/vocalist in bowl haircut and nineties style tracksuit top zipped up to the neck, another co-co-guitarist and singer Henrik both in cheap T-shirt and jeans, you could spot them from a mile off, and when they take to the stage people actually stop and listen.

For Envelopes have a stunning kind of robustness that could even be mistaken for a growl when you here them on record. Their music is awash with screaming ebbs, gravely flourishes and quirky asides, yet close up it has a quintessential indiepop brilliance, emerging right out of Postcard and Sarah into the modern age with the contented smile of underachievement. Only Envelopes are not underachieving as such, they’re signed to Brille and bordering on at least a modicum of mainstream success, which makes them even more vital in my book.

Now this was where it was supposed to have ended for me, cowerer as I am. Being not really up on Good Shoes, and after seeing the first band and everything that came with them, I’d planned to be supping cocktails of coke and ice somewhere else by now, but I'd noticed GS man Rhys enjoying Envelopes in the crowd so thought I’d stick around. Glad I did too, because Good Shoes turn out to be a pleasing concoction of similar gregariousness and nice tunes that stray more towards the mischievous side of mainstream indie populated by, say, The Young Knives, than anything more malignant. And it’s also great to see the kids going crazy for it at the end.

Crowd surfing, collective singing and general dancefloor outlandishness, Good Shoes seem to attract a great, passionate following, and I’ll definitely be checking out the 'Morden' single I have at home soon. As for now, it’s to the old I-pod thingy with the Envelopes mix-compilation. And how many bands with commercial prospects give them away at the moment? God knows, not many. Hurrah for Envelopes. And well done Good Shoes.

ｩ 2007 Neil Jones

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