The proliferation of manufactured, scrubbed up boy bands with their squeaky-clean images has meant that I can never tell one apart from the other.Keane-Monkey-Raconteurs-Editors all seem to sound like Coldplay imitants. Don't even get me started on The Killers who were inspired by Oasis - nuff said. You know their output is going to comprise of big stadium numbers, that they're going to wail with idiotic nonsensical lyrics that could have been written by some spotty, pre-pubsecent schoolboy. Capitalist pop designed to press the right buttons and line the pockets of studio bosses larding it up in their stately Gloucestershire mansions.
My contempt for so much of modern music leads me to embrace the intimate gigs in mangy rooms above the local pub, where you can see the veins popping out of the singer's veins, the drummer showering his kit with sweat, the sideway glances between the lead and bassist, the keyboard player immersed in his keys, trying to unlock some mysterious melody. Zed's music was primal, urgent and most of all honest - with today's postmodern anxiety about authenticity this must of course seem like a spurious statement. But so many bands try so hard to project a certain image, to encapsulate their sound in terms of their fashion and attitudes - striking the obligatory pose for the modern trend (i'm thinking of the newly-formed, full-pouting All Saints raising their manicured fists in support for the Yummy Mummy) and smacking of oppotunism. So hooray for bands like Zed who do not try to be anything other than what they are, who are unashamedly real, who restore the faith you've lost in this cynical age we live in.
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