Chasing After Stories That Have Already Been Told

Gomez were – and still are, I guess; they’re still around – a strange band at a strange time in my life. They arrived as I was starting (or about to start, I think?) my Masters degree, and there was something about their awkward mix of influences and reality that made a lot of sense to me at the time. There was always this level of disconnect between what they looked like and what they sounded like that I kind of loved, the idea that a band of white guys from Oxford (Please note: I’m not sure they’re really from Oxford and too lazy to Wikipedia them to check, but it’s the thought that counts – These guys looked like stereotypical English University Students) could make a sound like that. As ridiculous as it sounds, those were still the Britpop Hangover Days in many ways, and it was somehow a discovery.

I remember enjoying their first album, Bring It On, from a distance – liking the singles, not really thinking any more about them – but there was something about the (quickly recorded and released) follow-up Liquid Skin that completely grabbed me. Musically, it was pretty much the same, but lyrically there seemed to be something more, some mix of sadness and humor that made lines like “Even the Royal Mail can’t deliver us from here” work despite themselves. From there, the band got more insular, less popular (thereby reminding us all of that lesson about being mainstream and beloved), and I lost track of them as I started spending more time in the US.  But there was a point where they showed me that you could sound like someone else successfully, and not be called on the floor for it, and for that I’ll always kind of love them.

Related posts:

1. Can Anybody Find Me…?
2. No, Really. THAT’s The Story?
3. I’ve Got My Mind Made Up, Got My Fingers In My Pocket
4. What I Was Listening To, Yesterday
5. Flesh Wounds Heal, Broken Bones Mend