Patawawa

Patawawa is a terrible name (it’s something to do with dogs) for a great new disco outfit from Derbyshire. The potential for bathos and comedy in that sentence is obviously considerable, but we are being deathly serious. They might look like renegades from ancient cutesy indie imprint Sarah (here’s a picture of the Field Mice to remind you), but they make a more than decent fist of approximating the sound of late-70s/early-80s New York, with hints and tinges of 90s/00s French house and “filter disco”. Their neat little catchall for what they do is “deep-soul-avant-garde-indie-underground-baritone-discofunk”. Two of them, Rory Lovatt and Beth Garrett, told Radar magazine, “We all love 60s, 70s and 80s disco, funk and soul,” adding: “Sam is a little bit too into Alex Turner. We think he’s awful – someone had to say it.” This makes us warm to them even more. Really what they do is disco, pure and simple, a slightly cheesier and more commercial version of the sort of sublime 12-inchers that might have been issued by post-disco labels Prelude or West End, with a nod and a wink to the wonderful Ze Records. Keen followers of this column should be advised that they are the best of this sort of thing since we introduced GL a year ago, or Harts the year before. The name is the only negative about them, but it could have been worse – they almost called themselves the Gastric Band. Did you read that story this week about the closet for rent in London for £500 a month? Patawawa thrive in such confined spaces, recording their neo-classics in a cupboard under the stairs. Once you hear their shiny, glossy productions, you will find this fact all the more remarkable. Red and White is the obvious standout: The choppy guitar, the discreet brass, the clipped, hashtag-reductive spurned-lover lyric (“You’re so vain / Drive me insane”) screams, or rather coolly radiates, peak-period Nile Rodgers/Bernard Edwards or early Madonna (same difference). Garrett strikes just the right glacially anonymous note on vocals, and the music throughout is authentically synthetic. They might not be native New Yorkers, but they could be. (The Guardian)