The XX
XX

My return to the Debaser headquarters coincides with the arrival of these four (the directors tell me it's three, now that the keyboardist has set sail) South-West London lads. And we could already stop right here. Then you see them on YouTube in an interview and there are only two of them. It's practically like the alligalli song. An emo alligalli, considering their look. Horror and amazement.

One might now wonder what could drive an average listener to give a chance to this debut album of theirs, which, like their name, refers to the number 20, that is, more or less their—and my—age.

In one word: simplicity. In a music scene often dominated by manic arrangements and baroque orchestrations, put there to mask the defects and shortcomings of the artists themselves, this album is a great listen. The voices of the two guys, Romy and Oliver, are like they're recorded through cracks in the walls, humid and clandestine. The rhythm section is all in a drum machine, and the rest is done by the great pauses, those atmospheric breaths that make any description redundant. However, our young Brits do not lack a taste for melody, rooted in their musical tradition like never before. This is the case for "Crystalised" as well as "Heart Skipped a Beat", while other tracks like "Infinity" and "Basic Space" stand out for precious naive and extemporaneous guitar ideas. However, the best piece remains "Intro", an impeccable first track: such an attack, to stay in the indie-pop-rock field, I only remember in "Turn On The Bright Lights" by Interpol (Untitled).

Let's allow critics to amuse themselves by comparing them to Portishead and Radiohead. These are the XX-head, four losers from South-West London. And right here, I know, I could have stopped.