More about: The Roves

It feels a while since we have had an indie band free from any kind of macho posturing. Billy Bragg’s boyish banter seems decades ago in terms of music, separated from the modern day by a hefty slab of post-punk, landfill indie, and the pop-infused indie bangers which have risen to prominence in the last 20-or-so years. 

The Roves feel refreshing in the wake of this. Content with a simple set up of guitars, bass, and drums, Needle Factory feels distinctively acoustic, as though we are listening to a group of mates jam together. It’s comforting without being cheesy or cringey. The Roves are not out for an ear-worm or a big guitar hook - instead, the album feels happy to settle for a kind of laid-back croon.

This kind of music sounds timeless, songwriting placed at the forefront, without seeming flashy or sacrificing the music’s simplicity. At the same time, though, bands like The Roves have been absent from the music scene for a while now. With indie sleaze on the rise again, now seems the perfect time for a band who represents the genre’s softer underbelly. It’s rock without the hardness; indie sleaze without the sleaze.

The music feels very kitchen-sink, similar to Teenage Fanclub in its small-town mood and earnest, hazy vocals. ‘Archway Blues’ drifts into a heart-aching croon, with retro-sounding guitars. It is a rare occasion where the music really builds, with a soaring chorus, delivered in a very Dylan-esque manner. The Roves excels at a timeless sound, and here, instilled with a sense of longing, they hint at greatness. 

The Roves’ influences shine through on Needle Factory as it skates around genres. ‘Joanna & Miguel’ has almost surf-rock inspired guitars, whilst ‘I am the flood’ veers into a rollocking country strum. But despite their various stylings, the tracks have a tendency to blur into one. The Roves’s commitment to their laid back sound means that most of their music has a lack of urgency or drama, meaning it’s hard to hear where the tracks build to - and without this, it’s hard to pinpoint where one song ends and another begins. 

‘Alberto Zi & The Uptown Three’ and ‘So Thankful’ sound like a sedated Palma Violets, whilst the edgily-titled ‘Drug Deal’ starts out sounding like the music at the start of a sit-com. The latter plods along, its carefree attitude a gentle mockery of the drama and exaggeration of indie. However this gentleness almost diminishes the impact of any mockery present, making the subject of so many iconic pop songs (Lou Reed’s ‘Waiting for my man,’ The Strokes’ ‘Soma’) seem mundane and unremarkable.

You can take the drama out of rock, but it needs replacing with something, otherwise the music has nothing to say.  The album is pleasant - it sounds like perfect music for idly lazing around. But it’s extreme relaxed-ness, the fact that it is pretty devoid of urgency, makes it boring at points, despite the pretty guitars and nice melodies. 

Catch The Roves at The Lexington on Saturday 18th March

Grab your copy of the Gigwise print magazine here.

More about: The Roves