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The Vanity come from the underground Tuscan spirals, despite a brazen and cheerful pop euphoria. With a basic setup of guitar, drums, bass, and vocals, sufficiently skilled technically and with a trendy, cool, and clean attitude, they could blend in with other bands circulating in Italy, proposing their unlistenable musical theories, the same repetitive arpeggios, and lyrics that would make Maurizio Costanzo blush. But it doesn’t matter much. Stopping at mere appearance is a flaw I try to erase almost always.
Yes, in the end, it's pop with some shards of alternative rock. Yes, it’s nice. Yes, it’s catchy.
And you’ll say. What a bore.
But no. It’s that pop-rock that makes you hum in the shower, that you’d want on your car stereo, that you’d like to dedicate to your girlfriend. It’s honest music, no frills, deliberately referential without shame (Interpol-like vocals, Depeche Mode-style keyboard riffs, easy and straightforward choruses), that can be listened to without a problem. Beyond the vaguely glamorous and alternative veneer, they reveal small great insights, a nice enthusiasm and most importantly, a handful (4) of songs that make you reconsider the Italian pop scene.
The opening "Howling," with its intertwining voices and swirling keyboards, reveals itself to be an excellent piece when it self-destructs to transform into a high-impact tour de force. The single "This Is Not An Option" comes directly from forgotten adolescence, from a broken love, or from a vacation ending at sunset. It sketches out a cadenced rhythm and a chorus that remains indelible, branded on your skin, before an even more compelling "Blackmail Disco" recalls a less dark and more carefree side of Paul Banks. And damn, you feel like dancing naked in your room. With the world rushing over you. And then it disappears. And then it disappears. And then it disappears. KABOOM.
Damn Freudian slips.
Damn Freudian slips.
Damn Freudian slips.
A frankly bland "Stormrise" closes, dampening the acute enthusiasm of the first three tracks with a song that would have deserved a place as a b-side.
But all in all, this EP suggests a band that, despite lacking originality, manages to impact and entertain. It can appeal to everyone: from the radical chic to the young girl getting her first period, from the alternative person to the girl next door, to your grandma, to the nostalgic rocker, or your neighbor. Music that unites, that melts, that makes you scream out loud.
What, in short, fucking pop should always be.
All you need is love.
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