Saving breathlessly about the works of Alan bennett and Joe Orton, the kitchen sink dramas of Albert Finney and their all-time favourite
Ronettes songs, Manchester’s The Heartbreaks sometimes seem less like a pop group and more like commissioning arts editors at BBC4.
But a pop group is what they most certainly are, and, as those aforementioned cultural references suggest, The Heartbreaks are a band moulded with a distinctly classic British twist. At a packed-out gig in their adopted
hometown of Manchester – (the quartet hail from the seaside enclave of Morecambe) – it’s clear to see why The Heartbreaks are being spoken about as the most irresistible union of style and song writing substance since Pete and Carl first set voyage on their ill-fated Arcadian Dream. Formed just a year ago, they deliver a fierce storm of Johnny Marr riffs, gloriously barbed lyricism (“Procrastination pay no heed of time... pursue romance and wine”), and Suede-sized choruses to detonate indie dance floors the nation over.
Matthew Whitehouse, with his teddy boy appearance, would arguably have made a more convincing John Lennon in the recent Nowhere Boy biopic; drummer Joe Kondras has something of Paul Weller’s Style Council-era continental Mod sophistication; while guitarist Ryan Wallace and bassist Deakin might just rescue the skyscraper quiff back from the clutches of those evil Jedward twins. In a nutshell, The Heartbreaks look sharp; and this classic British aesthetic runs fiercely throughout the band’s entire mission statement.
“We’re obsessed with British nostalgia and romance,” declares Whitehouse, sipping a glass of water in a Manchester bar. “I think that celebration of romance has either been lost or misused in modern British music. But as young men growing up in the North, it’s writers like Alan Bennett and films like Billy Liar, which have really brought English culture and romance alive for us. People haven’t lived in the North in a small town. Broken dreams
and faded seaside romance – these things still exist, and they are the very heart and soul of this band.” With their debut single, the Smiths-esque bruised lament ‘Liar My Dear’, released next month on new indie label Seven Sevens, you can almost hear the Courteeners-corrupted body of northern guitar pop being rescued from the gutter, given some TLC, before being taken on the romantic odyssey of a lifetime.
“We’re still a very young band,” drummer Kondras insists. “We’ve got an average age of 20, so we were too young for The Strokes, The Libertines and even Arctic Monkeys. It sounds weird, but for the four people in this band, our special life-changing band is the one we’re actually in. Everything about The Heartbreaks is what we’d look for in a band – the lyrics, the songs, the fashions, and of course, the sense of old English romanticism. Not to sound big-headed, but we are our biggest fans.” The Heartbreaks aren’t here to break your hearts. They’re more likely to steal them and run away to the seaside for a dirty weekend. And who knows, they might just be the band to redeem northern indie from its Oasis-era ladrock excess while they’re at it.
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