The problem with any It-band? From the womb untimely ripped, The Vaccines really shouldn’t sound as assured as they do, nor should they have produced a debut as coherent as this 11-track little beauty. Barely together 18 months, their fully realised sound and last-chance urgency testifies to the individual members’ years spent blundering about in ever-decreasing circles in dead-end baby bands.
What Did You Expect From The Vaccines? from the ‘toodinal title to the sound (Beck and Radiohead engineer Dan Grech has done a bang-up job of capturing the quartet’s obviously potent live energy), smells like an album precision engineered to fit all the requirements of a landmark debut.
Consider this a half-hour tour through four generations of black leather jackets and skinny jeans. There’s ‘50s teen rebel pose, ‘60s surf and girly-pop poise, ‘70s Ramones scuzz and ‘80s Jesus & Mary Chain/Sonic Youth feedback overload. But for every snub-nosed revolver like ‘Wreckin’ Bar’ or ‘If You Wanna’, there are shadow songs infused with the kind of lingering melancholia more commonly associated with New Order, Interpol or The National – namely the gorgeous ‘Post Break Up Sex’ and ‘Wet Suit’. They may be young, but The Vaccines have deep roots. ‘A Lack Of Understanding’ indicates more than a working knowledge of Brian Wilson and the Back To Mono box set.
Every so often a new band strips everything back to the necessaries. Tambourines on floor toms. Shouty but melodic backing vocals. Ringing hollow-bodied guitar hooks. Hip-jutting bass. No backing singers or horn sections, no pyrotechnics or costume changes, just a selection of fine songs played with panache. Minimalism is the new maximalism. Salut.