Five indie songs ruined by overplaying that will become classics again in 10 years
What becomes a classic is often down to luck. We might like to think otherwise, but often the annals of pop culture history are scattered with what-could-have-beens, bad timing, and moments of misfortune.
However, even the benefactors of luck that blow up aren’t guaranteed a smooth ride from there out. Once a track becomes a big hit, an artist’s bank account might bulge, but the song itself is at the mercy of the fickle fingers of fate. It can swiftly be shot down as overrated, it can be clubbed in with a load of subpar copycats, or worse still, it can be dreadfully overplayed.
Being endlessly looped on the speakers in Lidl, constantly overlaid on BBC sports montages, trapped on Radio X’s groundhog day playlist, and sought after for DFS adverts can kneecap a classic in the eyes of its fans. All of a sudden, an absolute Tony Yeboah begins to fall flat, commercially flying, up flailing in Row Z in the eyes of those who once loved it.
In these instances, it is important to remember that the song itself remains the same. And if it was good enough to be worthy to escape the cult clutches of indie and wiggle onto the charts upon release, it may well enjoy the inverse journey once it has passed the overplayed peak. After all, even the appeal of The Beatles had waned slightly in the 1980s, so these soiled tracks certainly have a shot at redemption.
Five ruined indie bangers due for a comeback:
‘Skinny Love’ – Bon Iver
There were days when ‘Skinny Love’ was a beauteous gem that soundtracked heartache for a legion of early Carhartt and craft beer enthusiasts. In fact, this went on for a few years before Bon Iver started collaborating with Kanye West, developed an auto-tune addiction, and his music became the soundtrack to a Netflix series about college rollerskating romances.
Sadly, during that transition from cult classic to ubiquitous drip, the song also unfortunately aided the uprising of the Hey Ho folk movement. But none of this is inherently the fault of ‘Skinny Love’. As it happens, these sorry side-effects are testimony to its quality. With the luscious anthem, Bon Iver brought a new rawness to heartbroken folk in a way that has evidently resonated.
‘The Less I Know The Better’ – Tame Impala
‘I knew them before they were big’ has never been the most ingratiating remark. In fact, it is often an idiom only espoused by pricks devoid of self-awareness. But it has no doubt befallen a few Tame Impala fans who ‘prefer the earlier stuff’. In truth, they are a band where such an opinion is entirely valid, Lonerism and InnerSpeaker both remain firmly within their top three records (you can debate the order among yourselves).
Nevertheless, that doesn’t make ‘The Less I Know The Better’ anything to scoff at. Yet, its status as the beginner’s entry point to the erstwhile Aussie psyche band is unfortunately exacerbated by endless overplays on Hollister adverts (probably), and its perennial inclusion as the ‘something a bit different’ entry on mainstream radio stations. But one day, the damn grooviness of that bassline will start involuntarily tapping toes of the cooler kids in their Birkenstocks once more.
‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ – Arctic Monkeys
The 15-20 year mark is the sniper’s alley for any classic album. It is the fallow patch when a record isn’t quite fresh enough to still feel vital, yet the glitter of nostalgia hasn’t quite settled, and the measure of its impact remains tricky to reconcile. Some records never make it out alive. However, Whatever People Say I Am That’s What I’m Not is beginning to smell of roses (as well as Lynx Africa and Tropical Reef) once more.
But Arctic Monkeys’ debut single has never experienced a second of respite. It’s still endlessly looped on indie radio stations, and it achieved enough crossover to become part of wedding discos. That is to the song’s credit, but it has also deteriorated its impact over time. In years to come, its thunderous, catchy appeal will once again make it clear why it became a crossover hit in the first place. It remains the most iconic indie hit of the 21st century. That’s beginning to settle in with ever-increasing sharpness as we crave the sticky floor unity that it represents.
‘Young Folks’ – Peter, Bjorn and John
In the UK, the once gloriously innovative ‘Young Folks’ by Swedish trio Peter, Bjorn and John has become so synonymous with some celeb trying to flog me shit between fleeting bouts of punditry on Super Sunday that I can no longer listen to it without being pierced by sour thoughts of all the things I can’t afford.
Worse still, beyond the painful ties to capitalism, being bombarded with the same 25-second, percussive segment of a song at least once a day for what seems like the last 15 years has entirely nullified its impact. Upon release, the strange mix of frenetic drums and sparse whistling erupting into a sunny chorus was almost reminiscent of something the Beach Boys might have done had they emerged in 1999. Now, the only thing that ties them is that their music is always on bloody adverts.
‘Chaise Longue’ – Wet Leg
I mean, ‘Chaise Longue’ is annoying, and I’ll still think it’s annoying in a decade or two, but it does definitely have a bit of an era-defining riff rattling around it. From the sordid revival of sleaze, the slight air of absurdism, and the inverse swagger, the whole thing undoubtedly encapsulated a fair few tenets of the post-punk movement, and maybe that’s why it was overplayed as the breakout track from that little Covid-era clique.
But that also means that by the time its 20th anniversary rolls around in 2041, if I’m still scribbling away, I’ll no doubt pen a polemic about everything it represented and everything it effortlessly captured with catchy aplomb. Or at least I hope we still live in a world where such human cultural commentary has a market, and there are people who can still read. That would be nice.
As for now, though, the angular attitude and coolness of Wet Leg‘s ‘Chaise Longue’ almost make it already feel like it already belongs to a revival akin to the enthusiasm the Mekons and Gang of Four were met with not long back. It belongs to the lineage of that DIY artful daftness.
