“If you are going to be a true journalist, you cannot make friends with the rock stars.” –Lester Bangs, Almost Famous.
The words of my favourite fictional, Hollywood-movie 1970s rock writer ran through my mind as my legs somehow carried me through the blue-grey lights that filtered through the opaque haze of Proud, Camden. In front of me stood three guys whose EP, Somewhere In Between, replaced my Xanex cravings during the final months of my dissertation. The bare acoustic sounds of Narrow Plains- stripped down from the chaotic and heavily engineered process of mainstream music- released my mind into a space where for 30 minutes, I was somewhere in between the placid abeyance of Ed Sheeran and the airy folk of Bon Iver. Within minutes of introducing myself to the band for an interview, the wise words Lester Bangs were thrown out the window as I literally jumped into a car jam-packed with instruments, groupies and some sweaty musicians.
But when the question came tumbling out over our frothy Calrsburgs; who was the most famous person you’ve partied with? What was your best sexual escapade? What’s the hardest drug you’ve ever done? The guys just looked at one another and laughed.
“Seriously, what do you think people in bands are like?” Stuart, the drummer from Narrow Plains interjected. I thought of my stock view of the kind of lifestyles that musicians have, partying all night, spending the daylight hours asleep right? “Actually, we have jobs… the band probably wouldn’t exist if we didn’t”.
If my fallen face and quizzical brow didn’t give away my uncertainty as to their artistic ambiance, my silence did. After all, this was the Shoreditch art scene; the epicentre of London’s creativity. This was Damian Hirst and Amy Winehouse and the full-bodied encompassment of what it meant to think and live and breathe outside the box. This was not nine to five. But these guys were claiming that was what they were. More so, they were okay with it.
“We play music because we enjoy it… but if we bought into the classic rock and roll story and threw everything else away to try and ‘make it’, we’d probably fail so badly that we wouldn’t even have enough money left to play.” A day job, and a few gigs a month is apparently the way to sustain a band at this level during a recession. “And as long as people are liking the sound, I’m happy”, added Stuart.
That sound, consisting of a blend of contemporary themes with unorthodox styles of execution- has created an original vibe that is unique to Narrow Plains, and sets them apart from the Ben Harpers and Iron and Wines of the world. Their bizarre percussion set-up turns heads before they even start playing, and when the actual music kicks in, its pretty clear what the ‘Narrow Plains’ sound is. More so, it’s a sound that has become widely appreciated on the Shoreditch circuit. With 12,500 fans on twitter and a growing list of live shows, the reputation of Narrow Plains is quickly rising. More so, it’s the Shoreditch fans that feed fire to the band’s direction;
“When you get feedback from people in Shoreditch, you know it means something. They tend to be seasoned music fans. If they say you’re good, it means a lot more.” Stuart attested.
I thought back to those last days surrounding my dissertation and the line up of music I had running through my playlist. There was a lot of truth in his statement. Ultimately, music fans come to Shoreditch to discover new sounds that provoke an emotive identification. That provocation is the essence of the Shoreditch music scene, and what keeps the area thriving in originality and creativity. Its what makes bands like Narrow Plains, which thrive in the London circuit, nothing short of almost Shoreditch. They are Shoreditch.
Catch Narrow Plains live at Rattlesnake, Islington this Monday the 15th October at
8pm, or at The Workshop on Old Street on the 1st of November. Find them on twitter
@NarrowPlains for all the latest updates!
