Itch- An Illusion of Grandeur From a One Trick Pony

    As the music industry becomes further decentralized (blame it on illegal file-sharing, unfair pricing, record companies or economic depression, the result is the same), power has shifted from A & R to artists themselves, and from press releases to fan buzz. But every change comes with its consequences: for every godawful group of hacks who would have been shoved down the throats of listeners a decade ago, we’re left with a lot of promising raw talent that’s too small to get picked up, even by niche reviewers and the blogosphere at large. Case in point: Itch, a Leeds quartet who linger somewhere between the harrowing lo-fi tundra of Modest Mouse circa-This is a Long Drive For Someone With Nothing to Think About and sloppy schizophrenia of pre-Ugly Organ Cursive.

    However, to pigeonhole them as such would be a grave discredit. Their sonic canvas is dotted with math-rock, the chaotic elements of early screamo and the occasionally danceable passage (see: “Tom Dick and Harry”), only made cohesive by singer/guitarist Mike Milner’s commanding voice. All at once, their music is daring, passionate and well-crafted, but unlike the math-rock scene they are arguably part of, they don’t feel the need to beat their listeners over the head with any of it. Their most recent release, An Illusion of Grandeur from a One Trick Pony, is a heady and personal 11-track journey, the last leg of which, “Never in a Million Years”, will silence any naysayer, and cement a love of this perfect late-night record. That is, if the initial one-two punch of “Big Clever” and “Here Comes the Cavalry” don’t set up roost in the replay section of your brain first.

    But of course it’s never that simple. As in the not-far-gone days of old, some bands just slip through the cracks, and groups like Itch show the limits of the blogosphere (their most daunting enemy may yet be the search engine). Despite the fast and free trade of information and opinions it offers, net buzz still can’t outmatch a caring fanbase with their boots on the ground. Considering the quality of this record (their third) and their tenure (they formed in 1998), it’s tough not to feel that the boys from Leeds were given the short end of the stick. Digital downloads of the album can be found on bandcamp.com (£7), and a physical release is available on Tip Toe Records (£8).




An Illusion of Grandeur from a One Trick Pony