The Liverpool music scene is haunted by a spectre – a spectre of four dickheads from Manchester, four admittedly very talented dickheads from Sheffield, and a splash of influence from Catfish and the Bottlemen.
Each band I’ve seen, from student start-ups to established acts, wears their influences on the sleeves of their vintage shirts. This is commendable, and every musical act does it to some degree. The problem, however, is instead of standing on the shoulders of the giants that came before them, they are pressed beneath their feet, crushed by the immense weight of the social prestige the music which they ape has garnered in the past. The music, while technically good (and far better than anything I could muster), ultimately lacks vision. The music scene feels empty of stories and, feeling this absence, is replaced by senseless ego and borderline delusions of grandeur.
This is not to slight the people in the scene. I know many of them and call a fair few my friends – some very close friends. Even those that I don’t know well I have very few complaints with. But collectively, when they superimpose to create this music scene, the sonic output doesn’t reflect their largely genuine personalities.
Yard Act have bemoaned that music is held back by the types who “Don’t like it, unless they’ve heard it before.” It appears the music scene here has adapted to this hostile environment. They’ve adapted by refusing to do anything that hasn’t been heard before. Instead, you get toothless clones of Phoebe Bridgers and countless copies of indie, white-guys-with-guitars, four-pieces. Spend a week going to Jimmy’s, The Jacaranda, Heebie Jeebies, and The Shipping Forecast, and you’ll see the exact same play with a different cast each time. Trust me, I’ve already done it.
And yet inside the scene there is so much potential energy. The scene is bursting with talented instrumentalists, vocalists, people who surely have something to say. It just needs a band with the bravery to offer something new, the bravery to put their head above the parapet and lead, not follow. I want to see bands with their own sound, not guys copying the homework of their dad’s record collection.