Deadletter present their most polished track to date, ‘It Comes Creeping’
Deadletter have been a name to note for a long time now. In certain circles, they’re a name of complete obsession as Zac Lawrence takes up the mantel as one of those frontmen akin to a messiah, hypnotising crowds as he goes and turning them into a cult. But on their new single, ‘It Comes Creeping’, their lofty ambitions are shown.
Hailing from Yorkshire, Deadletter, really, were morphed in South London. One listen to any of their songs, and you can hear that as they bear all the signatures of a classic Windmill act born from one of the most exciting musical scenes of modern times, that all comes sprawling out of one beaten-up pub.
In the ranks of names like Opus Kink or HMLTD, they also bear all the same mismatch, vague labels. Art rock? Post-punk? Dance-punk? Punk itself? All sorts of things get thrown around: jazz, krautrock. Words like poetic, theatrical, and gothic. They’re bands that seem to defy neat explanation, but more and more seem to be forming their own genre, with more bands like them spawning every day.
Let’s admit it now – it became exhausting. Especially a few years back, it felt like the UK DIY music scene couldn’t breath for all the bands who were talk-singing over rock sonics with a scattering of horns or violins or poets or whatever else thrown in. But recently, Deadletter seem to be stepping out of the pack and they’re stepping out by streamlining.
‘It Comes Creeping’ feels like one of their most adventurous releases to date in the strange way of it being one of their most accessible and hooking. It’s not that they’ve cast off the nuance of intrigue that comes from being uncategorisable. In fact, this track is just as, if not more, genre-fluid than any others. But it’s a song that makes sense, that holds a solid form, rather than feeling too loose.
The core stands strong and solid as one of their most classically-charged indie rock tunes yet. It’s foolproof and gripping, chugging you along, tapping your toes whether you like it or not. Over the top, the signature Windmill-style orchestra of additions play on with off-kilter woodwind, but here, there’s an almost 1980s air to it, something more glamorous than solely gritty.
Overwhelmingly, it’s a song that takes itself seriously, it seems. The DIY scene can so often fall into the rabbit hole of wanting to be the weirdest of the flock, being so focused on being experimental and out-there that it cuts off its own nose. But here, Deadletter are polished. This is a song with real-world ambition outside of small venues. This is a song for the radio, for loud speakers, for bigger rooms, for a band who want to be big and wants to be good and won’t be shy about that anymore.
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