The XX’s minimalism is their secret weapon—it can come across as slacker naivety, but it provides a lot of space for the listener to live in. You hear every instrument, every note, every word without pretension.
Baxter Dury has that same kind of minimalism, and though everything’s cranked up a few notches, he makes sure it’s all still crystal clear. The bass is the first thing you notice, but then you hear the intake of breath by the background singer at the chorus, the wonderful chord change by the guitars, the mechanized drumbeat, every rotor blade sound. Even his thick Cockney speaking voice shows that this is a guy who doesn’t give a shit if you think he’s talented or just cheeky.
I’m well-aware that Dury’s narrating style is something of an acquired taste, though again, don’t let it cause you to overlook something special—in this case, some acutely interesting lyrics (“The Chiswick disco had a leak of egos, and I waded through it like an oil spillage…”) If you’re looking for an even better example of this storytelling, with an even more addictive bassline, seek out his 2005 track “Cocaine Man,” a stone-cold classic of English indie rock.
m. joosse
Filed under: Mixtape, NEIMT, Vol 08, Baxter Dury