Standard Fare – 051107 by In House Press
Maturity and wisdom are qualities that are widely accepted to be synonymous with each other, but what bridges the gap between the two? Is it experience? Education? Plain old thoughtfulness, perhaps? All are worth considering as the right answer, but how about naivety? Sheffield trio Standard Fare seem to make a worthy case for it, creating music that sounds like the constant narration from a teenager’s head while simultaneously sounding years ahead of adolescence. On the former side of that spectrum there’s the track “051107” where vocalist Emma Kupa sings “I don’t know what we’re doing / But it feels good” over a peppy and twee guitar riff that seems to match the rush of hormones flowing through a new teenager’s body. Its music matches its lyrics perfectly, making it easy to picture a young courting pair of teenagers running about a city centre, dodging bus fares and nearly kissing in alleyways. On the other side of the record Kupa questions a friend about his likeness of “Older Women”, concluding her thoughts with the wistful line, “No, I’m not jealous / Just think you could do better / Than settle for the first sign of affection.” It can feel like you’re watching someone grow up before your eyes.
Of course, Standard Fare are young at heart, and despite their thoughtful and sometimes cynical outlook on life, their music seems to soundtrack that of a teenager with a big imagination stuck inside the confines of a big city. If the 2010 Richard Ayoade film Submarine was set in the present day, then it would be easy to imagine the songs on Out of Sight, Out of Town making up the film’s soundtrack. Kupa sounds like the kind of character who would relate perfectly to the film’s protagonist, getting carried away with the fear of the outside world (the nuclear fallout predicted on “Suitcase”) while also caring for a heartbroken friend (“Early That Night”) and simultaneously dealing with hormonal feelings kicking in for the first time (“The Look of Lust”).
While there is a certain misery to be heard about the characters here having to live in a single city, it also adds that small town charm that goes beyond the band’s name, album title and cover art (think Arctic Monkeys, without the mention of bust-ups and prostitutes). While other vocalist Danny How questions the girl he pulled at a club on “Call Me Up” (“If you’re looking for love / Why are you looking in a nightclub?”), Kupa is looking to bond with her recently re-discovered half-sister on the appropriately titled “Half Sister.” “It sure would be nice to see you / To have you around / A friend in this town,” she sings, like she’s looking for someone who’ll understand her, hoping that the fact they grew up together at one point means they can relate with each other.
However, when they do get out of Sheffield on the final track “Crystal Palatial” – as Kupa recounts her first trip to London with an impressionable older friend whom she adores – the childish naivety come into full view, like a goth kid enjoying a trip to Disneyland. As cool as she tries to act, in her head she’s still an overwhelmed teenage girl saying stuff like “Smoking’s bad” and “Marry me” to herself. And musically the band returns to top form with an extremely likeable piece of indie pop, like the tracks at the front of the record. It’s an album where the best content is found at either end: at the front there’s the aforementioned “051107,” “Suitcase” (from which the sublime guitar playing deserves a specific shoutout) and “Dead Future,” with its infectious “ba-ba-ba” chorus. The second half has them sounding more mature, and perhaps at their best ever with tracks like “Older Women” and “Half Sister,” which do have chipper jangly music to get them by, but still put great light on the band’s future, which hopefully is getting brighter despite Kupa’s singing “You can struggle all you like / We’re destined to die unknown” on “Dead Future.” Out of Sight, Out of Town is the kind of record that should have a plentiful of people remembering them for some time to come.
