Having spent their formative years as Sheffield’s best kept secret, cloaked behind the media’s Monkey hyperbole and advocation of numerous derivatives, Slow Club’s accession since 2006 through the smoke and mirrors of their cohabiting luminaries has been rather surreptitious in comparison. Even with the rise of the new folk revolution, the boy-girl duo have seemingly orbited on the edge of scene cool with the demure reserve of a celestial body waiting to be discovered.
Their highly anticipated debut album Yeah So is one that coruscates with a childlike zeal in both sound and sentiment, but it’s true appeal is within the earnest deliverance of each song’s familiar subject. Opener ‘When I Go’ draws the listener in instantly with its tender rhetoric – “If we’re both not married by twenty-two, could I be bold and ask you”; Rebecca Taylor and Charles Watson’s vocal harmony converging with an amiable grace over a youthful schmaltz that we have all shared.
It is this endearing and candid narrative of the schoolyard sentiments conveyed that bound this album together. ‘Giving Up On Love’ and ‘Because We’re Dead’ jangle with a rallying anti-folk call despite their dispirited subject’s soliloquies are ultimately enrapturing; set these against the likes of the cumbersome and awkward drudges of the piano-led ‘There Is No Good Way To Say I’m Leaving You’ and the deft balladeering of ‘Sorry About The Doom’, and you have a kaleidoscope of youthful emotions dexterously transposed into neatly orchestrated folk fables.
Taylor and Watson’s songwriting capability has been well worth the wait. Their adept ability to write simplistic songs that are both far reaching and intimate in their appeal is something to be in ore of, capturing the essence – and often awkwardness – of growing up. It is something that we can all relate to, which makes Yeah So such a triumph.