Once again, it’s worth listening to the estimable opinions of Guy Garvey from Elbow who, you’ll remember, previews the Latitude festival in the current issue of Uncut. “Blondie’s my going-out music,” says Guy. “I don’t go to clubs very much, but if I decide I’m going out I put on a bit of Blondie first. I know it’s hard to picture, but I can cut a rug if I need to. I put ‘Atomic’ on every time.” I can’t help thinking he isn’t alone in having such simple pleasures. When Debbie Harry, Chris Stein and the current battalion of Blondie-blokes step into the Uncut Arena on the Sunday night of Latitude (just before Tindersticks, if you’re a fan of appealingly weird juxtapositions), chances are they’ll receive one of the most ecstatic receptions of the weekend. For here, after all, is a band who make delirious pop music that’s not anathema to ‘serious’ rock fans. Who have a singer who truly deserves that overused epithet, ‘iconic’, in spite of being a surreally bad dancer. Having seen them at Lovebox last year, there are a few incongruous solos, but they remain pretty great fun. Perfect for the last night of Britain’s best festival, really.
Once again, it’s worth listening to the estimable opinions of Guy Garvey from Elbow who, you’ll remember, previews the Latitude festival in the current issue of Uncut. “Blondie’s my going-out music,” says Guy. “I don’t go to clubs very much, but if I decide I’m going out I put on a bit of Blondie first. I know it’s hard to picture, but I can cut a rug if I need to. I put ‘Atomic’ on every time.”
I can’t help thinking he isn’t alone in having such simple pleasures. When Debbie Harry, Chris Stein and the current battalion of Blondie-blokes step into the Uncut Arena on the Sunday night of Latitude (just before Tindersticks, if you’re a fan of appealingly weird juxtapositions), chances are they’ll receive one of the most ecstatic receptions of the weekend.
For here, after all, is a band who make delirious pop music that’s not anathema to ‘serious’ rock fans. Who have a singer who truly deserves that overused epithet, ‘iconic’, in spite of being a surreally bad dancer. Having seen them at Lovebox last year, there are a few incongruous solos, but they remain pretty great fun. Perfect for the last night of Britain’s best festival, really.
