Lean Tales : Christmas 2008 demos (selfreleased)
At first it felt exactly like Black Tambourine’s ‘Throw Aggi off the Bridge’, like a mixture of action, pure speed and shy seduction. The girl put her lipgloss on. She adjusted the heart-shaped barrette in her hair and watched over the banister as Aggi was falling – eternally. It felt like something sweet could actually come out of something scary. The girl had a funny, strawberry-scented smile, a smile that said: ‘Stephen Pastel is now mine’.
Glasgow-based Lean Tales have something of the now-defunct Organ. They’re shivering in a winter of souvenirs. They have something of the Smiths, too: something that gleams within – the lace-like light of the guitar, maybe. Imogen sings icily, yet passionately: she’s the queen of cool playing with fire. LT have something, and it might be for you. Look. It’s a piece of music and it’s a piece of their hearts, it’s a part of guitar and a part of themselves – it is both the interrupted line of the bass and the flimsy line of the sky.
LT are a simple, humble, boys-and-girls band. Their demo recordings result from the clumsy collision of souls and sounds. They are deeply imperfect and deeply attractive: the power of the void. ‘The taste of Superglue’ and ‘Penny on the Floor’ are the most delicious time capsules I’ve tasted in a long time.
How old is the sound of Scotland today? It is still young and gripping, a continuous, contagious bliss. It is still in motion: the draft of the love letter you never sent.
Pathos is pretty. Pathos is alright.