
Charm School – Crime Time
Malcolm McLaren described the band which he had helped bankroll and assemble, Sex Pistols, as his vision of “sexy assassins.” McLaren’s fetishisation of his clients aside, the man understood the essence of entertainment in the murky Britain of the 1970s. The people had had Elvis impersonators, The Beatles, and glam-rock performers who looked like they’d raided their grannies’ wardrobe. Now, they needed to fear for their lives if they were going to be entertained.
Sure, Sex Pistols was a great rock n’ roll band too, but few really cared about that. They projected onto the four members and their associates all of their collective fears. These were people who might stab them on the street, who had no morals, who brought cussing to national television, and who didn’t believe in the monarchy and tradition. In fact, Sex Pistols were just trying to play Alice Cooper covers the best way that their limited musical abilities allowed them to.
We need another Terror if anyone’s going to buy records again. Charm School’s “Crime Time” is a post-punk song about overstimulation, boredom and the entertainment world taking us for chumps. Charm School sounds great, like a machine that’s been battered a bit and can only move forward. And “Crime Time” is not just a nifty, clever idea. It’s also a great, great chorus that will make it hard for you to forget it.
Grumpy Custard – Jobsworth
If there’s one dangerous cult picking up more and more adherents with each passing year, it is that of “The Office,” the British and American television series that millions of people swear to watch on a permanent basis, on an endless loop, to the point where they know every line spoken by every single episodical character. Sure, it’s a laugh.
But people don’t just watch it because of the punchlines. A recent Australian remake proved that using the same gags won’t guarantee popularity. They watch it because working for in an office, for a dumb boss, for lousy wages will be the reality of their lives. And that’s if they’re lucky. The largest part of the world’s population won’t even get that. But let’s not get gloomy now.
Grumpy Custard makes Officecore, a post-punk-adjacent style inspired by having to put on a shirt and tie each day and suffer through the ramblings of a stupid boss. Unlike the aforementioned Australian remake, the group’s jokes land safely. The hooks are there, too, making the group sound like a more imbittered version of the comedy-alt-rock group Royal Republic. The good times ain’t here just yet, but there’s no reason not to smile each time you can.