"What was it about them (The Teds) that so overwhelmed me? Glamour, yes...but something else besides - the force of self-invention” - Nik Cohn from Awopbopaloobopalopbamboom (published 1969)

Music: The Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.
Looks: Matching, penguin-like black and white evening wear.
Music: The Last Shadow Puppets.
Looks: Buttoned-up, matching suits, shirt and tie, spruced up, matching hairdos.

A side project of Alex Turner from Sheffield band The Arctic Monkeys and Miles Kane of Liverpool’s The Rascals, the two boys, pencil-thin and freshly-scrubbed despite the eye brow-hugging Mod fringes, standing in front of the 16-piece London Metropolitan Orchestra, look at first glance like the early Beatles or, earlier still, Cliff Richard’s backing band The Shadows.

A second look stirs thoughts of the puppet versions of Cliff and the band which appear in a glitzy dream sequence in Thunderbirds Are Go, the big screen version of the Gerry Anderson’s hit TV series filmed in 1966 in ‘supermarionation’.
The twin-like Turner and Kane’s skinny limbs may be on stage at Leeds Festival rather than the Swinging Star nightclub in some movie fantasy but they hang inside those crisp suits almost as if they, too, were dangling on strings.
The Last Shadow Puppets, indeed.

Compared by most of the press to the dry, sophisticated sternness of Scott Walker or the semi-orchestral song suites of David Axelrod, the band let slip their true intentions when they covered the slightly spooky, adolescent glamour of Billy Fury’s early pop classic Wondrous Place as part of their debut single, The Age of The Understatement.
If their carefully-sculpted, shampooed haircuts were a little shorter, the boyish pair would fit right into the shiny showbiz era that song sprung from.

The early 1960s; the time of Tin Pan Ally, of smoky clubs and pop ‘svengalis’ like Larry Parnes and the stars they created like Billy Fury.

The Last Shadow Puppets’ clean-cut , semi-retro image is just right, however, for their clean-cut , semi-retro sounds.
The zing of the strings and the whiff of innocence mixed with a self-conscious desire to return to a less cynical age.
It makes no difference that the playful Turner and Kane are smart enough to know that’s not really possible or even desirable, perhaps.

Music: The Editors
Looks: Straight black hair, crease-free black shirts / cardigans and straight black trousers.

That was the Birmingham-based indie rock group as they appeared in 2005 in an early TV appearance in the intimate setting of Jools Holland’s long-running BBC music show Later promoting debut album The Back Room. Last month, the band found themselves on a bigger stage on the wider canvas that is the Reading Festival delivering tracks from the follow-up, An End Has A Start.

None of their current haircuts obscure their ears or necks - they haven’t gone that wild and woolly - but that’s about all the four band members share these days when it comes to dress sense.

The Editors’ music itself remains as dark and sharp as it was when they played Munich for the studio audience on Later.
Those big U2-like, passionate chords delivered with the austere intensity of Joy Division, though they lack that doom-laden band’s unsettling grasp of the nightmare that lies beneath. No, the music hasn’t evolved, only the way the band looks. Their once clean-shaven lead singer Tom Smith now pulls those impassioned faces in grey trousers and pale blue shirt, his face obscured by dark shades, unshaven facial fuzz and a tentative attempt at a moustache. Bassist Russell Leetch huffs and puffs at his work in an olive green, collarless jacket and short hair. In contrast, lead guitarist Chris Urbanowicz throws shapes on the stage in a white polo shirt and carefully gelled up and thoroughly sculpted ‘emo’ fringe. Ditto drummer Ed Lay.

All bands want to look good when starting out, it’s only common sense in the early days when neither fame nor fortune are guaranteed. Not all of them realise that the clothes only work best when they fit the music. Sound and image in perfect harmony; the result, whether intended of not, going beyond the desire to look cool or sell records. For the listener/viewer, the effect registers at a gut level, a ping felt in your heart beyond conscious thought.  That’s when it seems natural. That’s when you believe. That’s when you know love is real.  Three years on, the song remains the same, only the looks are different - that and the welcome arrival of some level of fame and the fortune.  Thank goodness, The Editors don’t have to try so hard anymore. Nor The Fratellis nor Franz Ferdinand with their cookery columns in The  Guardian, nor Alex James of Blur and his appearances on ‘reality TV’ shows about farming.  Like the girl who you fell for so hard that you moved in with her all those months ago, the bands got what they wanted and simply stopped making the effort.  Divorced from dress sense, what once seemed special starts to appear ordinary.  It’s not so much that you feel let down, more that you begin to question what attracted you to the band/singer/song/girl in the first place.  Are you really who I thought you were or were you always someone else all along?  Then you remember the first time you caught a glimpse of them in the days when everything seemed right.  Holy mother of god, sound and image in heavenly sync.
There’s nothing more exciting in rock n roll than the meeting of music and looks.

Graham Chalmers

© Modern Music Review (2009)