The golden age of indie might be over, but The Big Moon are resuscitating its corpse for one last hurrah. As if recorded on a grotty Camden bar crawl, the quartet’s debut crashes and careens, as romantic as it is ramshackle, with Pixies-style quiet/loud contrasts a staple structure of their songs. Hopeless love story Cupid is a cross between early Libertines and Freakin’ Out-era Graham Coxon, its lyrics berating the sugary-drink-fuelled braggadocio of a misguided lothario (“He said, ‘I’m gonna make the Earth shake tonight’ / Pineapple juice, tropical Rubicon courage!”). There’s a rudimental rock’n’roll quality to its composition, and the soporific vocal style of Juliette Jackson – which recalls Sleeper’s Louise Wener at times – weaves a wry, stoic narrative throughout the chaos. Nostalgia for noughties and Britpop guitar hits echoes throughout – but played by a gang of twentysomethings, its wide-eyed conviction amplifies the emotional carnage.
