The XX: XX

The XX – “XX” One of the basic philosophies here at the Foreign Desk of 10 Listens is that backstory has little value in critical evaluation of a recording. Does the fact that the latest “it” band formed as schoolmates really add that much to the listening experience? Would the guitar tone sound any different knowing that the lead axe man spent two years in a psychiatric institution? These tidbits sure do make for good promo copy but they tend to taint the perception of otherwise underwhelming music, or at best they elevate good music to almost mythical status. A much more rational approach would be to take the album at face value, the notes for what they are, the songs merely as compositions and not acoutrements to a greater expository narrative.

That said, London’s The XX have gained quite a bit of indie hype recently for one particular aspect of their band bio–each of the members is a mere 20 years old, still quite an early age in a genre where it’s not uncommon to have relative superstars approaching 40. On first listen I wanted to rid myself of this knowledge, but with each subsequent go-round it became an inescapable fact. That’s not necessarily a positive thing, however.

What you should know: “XX” is a competent debut album, regardless of the age of those who created it. It is a dark, sleek, stripped down blend of that ubiquitous style of rock (angular) and soulful male/female singing hasn’t been readily heard on either side of the Atlantic.  At least, not heard with the recent trendy 80s-revival and folk-tinged introspection. What we’re presented with is a very modern record, one that takes influence from a spectrum of lovelorn songs spanning decades. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume these youngsters have dabbled in Prince as much as they have New Order. There is a repetitive nature to each track on “XX’. An MPC takes the place of a traditional drumkit and with each precise, identical handclap or snare hit, something of a pre-fabricated foundation takes the place of what would otherwise have stood alone as an integral instrument. Willowy, simple guitar lines heavy with reverb string along through each track, assuming higher notes in counterbalance to darker, sweeping synth accompaniments. One such thread saves “Basic Space” from being the awkward dancer at the party; just when hope is lost an ethereal yet syncopated fingering of notes transforms the song from FM radio fodder to sensual mixtape essential.

Would it have killed them to use a couple of different pedals, though? One wonders whether the repertoire of the two guitarists should be chalked up to inexperience or deliberate minimalism. Jonny Greenwood won’t lose any sleep or find any inspiration from these guys but hey, everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right?

Perhaps where the youthfulness of The XX is most apparent is in the lyrics. There are the typical metaphors found in darkened love songs: months passing, objects on fire. This is par for the course and possible within any band’s vocabulary. More troubling are repeated references to “giving it up” to someone, presumably euphemistic allusions to sex that while attempting to lend some sort of modern cache end up bordering on cringe-worthy. What ends up working much more effectively are basic statements repeated in just the right amount–the band can craft a memorable hook as well as any NME chart topper.  Sometimes they’re not even coherent words! Take the irresistible “highyighyigh” of single “Crystalised”.

The album opener “Intro” remains, after ten listens, the best ambassador for The XX’s ambition and ability. With sharp yet flowing guitar lines needling along at a mid-tempo rhythm, a robotic sawtooth keyboard hums above complex, jagged drumming. Each of the singers’ remarkable and wonderfully casual voices get a nice warm-up without the bother of any mash note romanticist lyrics getting in the way. It’s a vivid statement to start a solid showing; “Darkness is what’s hot and we do it quite well.” Perhaps this trend away from the day-glo spatters of Nu-Rave and Post Punk are here to stay, or maybe they’re just easily noticed in the current British music climate. Either way, The XX prove that they have promise, albeit one that only will grow with time. Here’s to hoping that a follow-up record will retain the keen ear for mature sound palettes, along with an adventurousness that can only come with age.