Not actual avant garde music, no: this blog isn't about to take a sudden turn into covering only the solo trumpet work of Rhys Chatham, for example, as amusing as that might be (mentioned since he's playing a show at Cafe Oto this month). Rather, Ballboy play singer-songwriter inflected indiepop, in that it's very much focused on Gordon Macintyre's lyrics and vocals, with often quite simplistic musical backing. They've released some wonderful records over the last few years though, and they were one of the highlights of last year's Indietracks festival for me.
Anyway, this song isn't one of their most emotionally charged or anything like that, but it does communicate an important and universal human truth: people that work in record stores are always elitist, and they always like music that's more unlistenably avant-garde than you do. This song's a kiss-off to that whole culture, and does come up with the undeniable comeback that no matter how good their music taste is, fundamentally they still work in a record shop. Also the music's energetic and exciting, and the song overall sounds a bit like a Scottish version of "Holland, 1945", which can only be a good thing.
Ballboy - Avant Garde Music
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