Five 2000s indie songs that don’t deserve their ‘landfill’ tag
For any musician who tried to make their big break at any point during the 2000s, how is your therapy going now?
This is only said slightly tongue-in-cheek, but the fact of the matter is that it was a brutal time to try to become an indie star. Between the rise of reality TV, a harsh political backdrop, and an even more cutthroat tabloid media scene, this was not a landscape made for the weak, and you simply had to have nerves of steel to have any hope of making it out alive.
On the latter point, although there are obviously many questionable choices and decisions that came out of the press circuit, particularly in the UK, at the time, one particularly stinging insult geared at the musical trend of the moment was ‘landfill indie’, a term relating to the aftermath of the British indie boom where every band was trying to replicate the greats and things just sounded a bit… shit.
Despite the brutal name, the vibes that landfill indie brought were anything but terrible. It was fun, carefree, superficial, but joyful – the type of music that you’d either get completely pissed to or hear as the scene transition songs in any given episode of Gavin and Stacey. In many ways, it was the peak of British culture in that era. If you were to pick three words to sum it up, it would be “happy”, “laddish”, and “rubbish”. You don’t need any more description than that.
But naturally, there were some songs that got perhaps unfairly lumped into the landfill indie mould that didn’t deserve the bad reputation. They were true indie pillars of that late 2000s era, the type of song that I also like to put in the category where you may not instantly recognise the title, but you shout “Ohhhhh, that one!” whenever you search it up. After all, who doesn’t secretly love a bit of cheap, indie sleaze? Those were truly the days.
Five 2000s songs that shouldn’t be called ‘landfill’ indie:
‘Amylase’ – Cajun Dance Party
Cajun Dance Party were one of those bands that, although they didn’t last long, were the exact epitome of this late 2000s indie wash in the UK. Indeed, with a song like ‘Amylase’, it was fitting that the group had only just finished school at the time they released their debut album, because it sounds as though they’d consulted their GCSE biology textbooks to write a song.
Yet despite its rudimentary fashion, there’s something charming in ‘Amylase’. It’s heady and hedonistic, much like your adolescent days are meant to be, and perfectly sums up that specific era in all its trashy glory. Of course, Cajun Dance Party themselves may have gone on to much more refined tastes since – forming other bands and winning Oscars, no less – but somewhere deep in their hearts, their home will always be landfill.
‘Moving to New York’ – The Wombats
The ultimate seal of approval on any classic landfill indie song is if it was used in one of the great sitcoms of the time, and with The Wombats’ ‘Moving to New York’ appearing in The Inbetweeners, it certainly fits the bill. But where other strongholds of the subgenre were typified by floppy fringes, knitted cardigans, and acoustic guitars, this song just decided to throw caution to the wind.
In this sense, ‘Moving to New York’ is a bit of an assault on the senses, but also deserves way more credit than its landfill tag. It buzzes with a feeling of true life and exhilaration that makes you feel that you’re not trapped in some shitty suburban pub with sticky floors, and instead, out and embracing the world. It’s an indie elixir.
‘Two Doors Down’ – Mystery Jets
Although ‘Two Doors Down’ by the Mystery Jets was released in 2008, its video is intentionally and hilariously reminiscent of the music of two decades prior, celebrating everything from a 1980s fever dream. But, in many ways, this is also perfect – because the song sounds as if it could have been released anywhere on the timeline between the Mystery Jets and The Human League, and still pull it off.
This makes the song somewhat of an anomaly in the canon of landfill indie, as typically its hallmarks were so quirkily distinctive to that specific period. Yet within ‘Two Doors Down’, there’s a heavy dose of new wave, coupled with perhaps a hint of Britpop, and all while keeping to its indie origins. It’s transcendental and refreshingly sharp, making it an ideal tonic to the scores of indie sleaze.
‘Valerie’ – The Zutons
Before Amy Winehouse stumbled across ‘Valerie’ and made it a global hit, Liverpool indie band The Zutons, specifically frontman Dave McCabe, was dumbstruck and in love, penning the tune as he pined after the celebrity makeup artist Valerie Star. Despite his song taking on its own lifeblood, however, the singer always stayed strong to his roots.
Writing the song in around 20 minutes while taking a taxi to his mother’s house, there was never any airs and graces around the process. Years down the line, that sense was reflected when pop star Dua Lipa brought McCabe out as a surprise guest at her show in Liverpool’s Anfield Stadium, and the audience reaction was mild, to say the least. It just goes to show that you can write one of the 21st century’s most recognisable songs and still relatively fly under the radar, as the mark of a true underdog.
‘Naïve’ – The Kooks
Most landfill indie songs are throwaway, airheaded commentaries on teenage life and supposed angst, but as its name suggests, The Kooks’ ‘Naïve’ was made up of some deceptively profound layers. The band’s lead singer, Luke Pritchard, wrote the song when he was only around 15 years old, but despite seemingly not knowing anything about the real world yet, the song’s sentiments have continued to echo over the years.
“The song is about the fear of someone doing something bad to you,” Pritchard previously explained. “The lyrics are real in some ways, but I was too young to have actually experienced that situation, so it was more me projecting my teenage fears. I’ve found myself in that situation since – it’s become something of a self-fulfilling prophecy.” You wouldn’t put a hidden gem in the bin, so why would you classify such an intricate song as landfill, either? It’s always the ones that catch you off guard that mean the most.
