Westside Cowboy concoct a 2010s elixir on ‘Can’t See’
We’re in the grand old year of 2025, where AI, soundbites, and TikTok pop rule supreme in the music industry. But according to Westside Cowboy, their imaginations have never left the indie heyday beyond 15 years ago.
To make things very clear upfront, that’s not a flagrant criticism. Everyone loves a dose of nostalgia, and whether for certain people that’s in cheesy boy bands from the ‘90s and for others some deep cut Bob Dylan tape from half a century ago, we all have our own preferences. For the Manchester band, however, that’s in trying to recreate the heady indie sleaze dream.
In essence, without trying to boil it down to a complete typecast, that’s exactly what you get served on a plate from their latest single, ‘Can’t See’. This is not an attempt to intentionally sound cynical, but they could have quite easily taken out shares in the indie band staple uniform of jersey T-shirts, blue jeans, and Converse trainers. They know what market they’re aiming towards.
And in this sense, you have to hand it to Westside Cowboy for creating something that they know is surefire fodder to generate themselves a bit of traction, even if it is through already well-trodden ground. Nothing about ‘Can’t See’ is a remotely unenjoyable listen, and it’s simply trying to charm you with what you know.
It reels the listener in like some form of voodoo or witchcraft – this time just powered by the spirit of cheap beer and getting pissed. Through a pacing drum beat and a simple yet effective tagline melody, it’s simple to remember and hard to forget. You find yourself casually humming to it afterwards, before realising that the chorus riff bears a remarkably suspicious similarity to that of ‘If You Wanna’ by The Vaccines.
But if you were to take this blueprint as the gospel, this is where ‘Can’t See’ somewhat fails to live up to its predecessors. With such a pacy and antsy opening, you gear yourself up for a guitar break that will inevitably explode into life within the next 30 seconds, the images already being envisioned of the crowd going wild and cups being lobbed at festivals.
Except the downfall is that the dream doesn’t end up becoming a reality, as any sense of crescendo is either let down to a squib by another verse of the same format, or a burst of electric not long-lived enough to even really constitute it as a guitar break.
Ironically, the perfect metaphor for this issue is displayed in the song’s very own video, where a person is seen in a field playing with a slingshot – they too are dressed in the customary denim and boot fashion combination, I should hasten to add.
But getting back to the point, it’s almost as if the tension on the elastic of that slingshot is getting pulled further and further back, and the ball never gets its moment to be unleashed. You rev yourself up for what you’re accustomed to in indie sleaze, for a full-throttle explosion, and yet the trigger is never quite pulled. It’s an exciting listen, but in the end, on ‘Can’t See’, it’s the hope that kills you.
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