There’s a lot left unsaid when an album or artist is described as ‘critically acclaimed’. Whilst bands are likely to be appreciative of the praise of supposed experts, it’s probable that they’d rather be rolling in the money that a top-selling album might bring, or be counting the ticket sales of their latest arena tour. There are few that manage to get the mix right, and those that do are still usually outperformed by their more commercial counterparts – anyone who saw Arcade Fire’s sparsely attended set at Leeds festival will have been blown away, but there were still far more bodies there for Blink 182 and The Libertines.
Music for Your Plants aren’t a band that are ready to headline a festival yet, or any size or stature, which is a shame – they’d have been a lot more entertaining to watch than 3 middle-aged pop punkers plodding through songs about girls and making jokes about masturbation. It’s a name that sounds like it could’ve been stolen from one of those early Vinyl oddities, like the various ‘Teach your budgie how to talk’ records you occasionally see in charity shops, and the music is similarly left-field. Branding itself as haunted and tropical in equal measure, the songs come more in the form of snippets from extended, meandering jams that seem to have caught the imagination of the web’s blogs – not a rare trend these days, but still, an achievement. It’s unlikely to translate into the royalties and advertisement deals that will keep them warm through the winter of their lives, but it’s something.