I’m always very suspicious of band name changes. They smack of desperate fame seeking, like some major label suit has told them they could do well if only they’d change that stupid name, get a haircut and ditch that fugly/wacky member. I don’t think that’s the case with Matchsticks (or Flying Matchstick Men, as was) although they’ve always sounded like a band hellbent on getting in the top ten who could be sorely tempted to sell their souls, or at least their “indie cred” if they ever cared about such things. But maybe they just got bored of explaining their name to taxi drivers.

Anyway, Duvet is typical Matchsticks fare, all arched eyebrows, knowing looks and waggled fingers; call and response lyrics over Pulp style charity shop pop. It sounds like the theme tune to a Saturday morning kids tv show complete with a wonky Gameboy breakdown in the middle; even the lyrics have that vague open-ended feel that means it all still fits 12 seasons down the line.

Still, there’s something quite annoying about Matchsticks – the too-catchy choruses, the hyperactively histrionic vocals – which kind of makes me want to hate them, even as I put the song on repeat. So let’s hope they do get picked up by Mr Major Label Suit, get their top 10 hits and blank out their indie past with Stalinist impassiveness so that I’d have a proper reason to hate them (while still secretly loving them).

Matchsticks at Myspace
One Records

Posted: 10|25|06 at 7:40 pm. Filed under: record reviews.
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