Glasgow four-piece The Dirty Blonde describe themselves as “fuzzy indie wrapped in cotton wool”.
In fact, brothers Danny and Paddy Gallagher, along with neighbourhood friends Dean Canale and David Rybacki, are making music that’s really very difficult to stick a label on, which is of course a good thing… unless you’re a music reviewer, in which case it’s a right pain in the arse (we do love a label).
The band’s full-length debut Sugarmilk is no exception, flirting with myriad genres from fuzzy DIY garage rock and hazy shoegaze, to indie-dance, with the occasional grimy burst of punk thrown in for good measure.
Wasting absolutely no time, the record crashes into opening track ‘Twenty Two’, a breathless three-minute romp, fuelled by a gritty, barking lead vocal from Danny Gallagher, and unyielding percussion, courtesy of Canale on drums.
In contrast, ‘Goodbye: Tiny Fractures’, a 2015 summer single, presents as a chipper and guitar-centric indie track.
Upbeat riffs and hooky chorus lyrics give way to a good old-fashioned rock guitar solo, lending a comfortable familiarity.
Archetypically shoegazey ‘Bottom Feeder’ is the longest track on the album, breaking with the record’s tendency towards a shorter, sharper punk fashioning.
With more than a nod to R.E.M’s influence on the (other) Gallagher brothers, and their mates, ‘Bottom Feeder’ is deliciously introspective, with lyrics “I’m boring to the point of fun” drawled over a languorous percussion.
Previous released as a free download, ‘Take You Under’ begins with a deceptively light acoustic indie intro.
Saved from being relegated to simply album filler material however, the track quickly builds in energy and pace, with vocal discords, and jammed-packed scuzzy bass from Paddy Gallagher anchoring the alt-rock vibes.
Closing track ‘Grieving Friend’, includes lyrics “there’s no need to shout” and indeed marks a further change, a gradual winding down, after a fairly frenetic previous 40-minutes.
The track finishes, surreally, with canned bird song, a choice that really shouldn’t work, but strangely fits in perfectly with the rest of this eclectic, experimental record.
Given the ambitious nature of this debut, one could be forgiven for initial scepticism.
Can a record spanning such a wide range of genres and styles still remain a coherent whole?
Admirably, The Dirty Blonde has created a uniquely recognisable, over-arching sound, which pulls the album together, allowing then to achieve just this.
Words: Kat McNicol
