In many cases my cynical perspectives on the eroding authenticity of our beloved music scene is characterised by the dribble and drawl that splatters the pages of the British music press like the stray spittle of an underage drinkers vomit, as these ever-increasing muso hacks glorify the trivial actions of worthless musicians posing as revolutionaries.
Le Martells, however, are not one of these bands. Absent is the thrusting of contrived originality in order to make way for the simpler things in life, no peripheral frills, no deceitful gimmickry, just straight forward good, solid, glistening indie-pop.
Crafted around toe-tapping melodies, throat wrenching sing a-longs and that elusive curveball hook, the Southampton students come golden guitar-pop pups glisten with the gem of hope and excitement, as, to make a change, they actually look dead chuffed to be playing their music.
As short and sharp as their set is, they’ve got all the elements needed to get things rolling. Lyrical wisdom and whit (‘One Of Those Gimely’), ramshackle knee-jerking peaks (‘Bandit’) and a colourful bounce to their live on-stage jig that’ll make teenage girls tear down their posters of Luke Pritchard and google the charismatic Jamie Smart.
