WHAT ABOUT: JUMP CLUBB
In 1977 Richard Hell released “Blank Generation,” a call-to-arms that clocked in just shy of three minutes. The song easily summed up the drop-in-a-bucket feeling of that day’s youth, thinking no doubt that they were simply void of any larger group. “I was saying get me out of this place,” Hell begged. After him and his Voidoids’ helped build the base for punk, the legendary No Wave scene was born and legions of innovative, refreshing and nihilistic bands were formed under the growing blanket genre.
Add thirty years and a jaunt across the county from New York to Beverly Hills, CA and you’ll land at the doorstep of another “No___” purveyor. Their called Jump Clubb and they claim their sound as “No Dance,” one they consider a “statement that questions the current state of the music listener- from LA celebrity to Brooklyn hipster.” Awe sarcasm. The self-produced and recorded band—in late ‘09— released a mixtape, a 7-song album and an iPhone app and still “want nothing to do with the fame that surrounds them on a daily basis” (reading their press release is just plain fun). Having set the indie A&R world into a who-are-they hubbub, Jump Clubb have managed to garner quite the buzz as, well denying response to any of it.
You’d never guess this snubbing while listening to their bouncy, sun-soaked lazy take on funky disco pop (a la Beat Happening or Hot Chip), or even their delicate, pulsing blogosphere-buzzing cover of Elliott Smith’s “Angeles,” but truth is, they have managed to pretty much remain mostly anonymous and it’s working for them. A rumor of a relationship to NYC/LA artist Cassettes Won’t Listen exists, but hasn’t been followed up on. There’s a total absence of band members, photos or even the possibility of playing live. Oh, and one of my favorite things- their provided management email address is firstname.lastname@example.org. They might be “making music- by themselves, without worry of judgment of who they are as people,” but hints of boastfulness seep through some of their debut LP’s tracks. On “Spraypaint” a male voice, sings “I was the first one in Brooklyn, so don’t even try, I painted my name on the wall” as if it were his take on James Murphy’s “Losing My Edge,” rant. Maybe not fully in the “blank generation” category if you were the first huh Mr. Singer?
All the above aside, truth is that Jump Clubb are good. Really good. The tracks are infectious, exuberant and blissful. Try standouts “Let’s Crash This Party,” “A Frozen Hug” and “Rather Be Played” and you’ll find yourself no-dancing somewhere between the best of Balearic Swede electro-pop and sleazy, growing disco while simultaneously imagining what they/he/she creating this gem really does look like.
Labels: Jump Clubb