By: David Schultz


Romy Madley Croft takes the philosophy that if one guitar note would be fine, then repeating it three or four times will no doubt create a hypnotically entrancing groove. She proves throughout The xx’s self-titled debut that its marvelously workable theory, even in the absence of a proper bass and drums. An addictive listen, xx matches its musical bravado with lyrics that are nothing more than emotionally unguarded, post coital repartee, flecked with slight twinges of latent insecurity. A bit of a modern update on Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game,” “Infinity” smolders with a relentless intensity that builds towards a climactic instrumental coda which sadly ends just as it seems ready to soar. Likewise, the slinky smooth beat of “Crystalized” keeps pace with the undercurrent of titillation of the banter between Croft and Oliver Sim. Even the seemingly banal songs are fraught with sexual tension: on “Shelter,” Croft breathily coos assurances that she’ll make amends for any shortcomings in the light of day and on “VCR” and “Basic Space,” the lazy familiar tone belies the boundary lines being drawn. The xx aren’t oozing sexuality or getting all come-hither with their dialogue, they remain compelling; the aptly named opener, “Intro,” bristling with cinematic possibilities.

With keyboardist Baria Qureshi leaving the band, The xx will soldier on as a trio. They’ll be spending the next few weeks in Europe before retuning to the U.S. for some headlining gigs. Having opened for Hot Chip and The Fiery Furnaces on their prior visits to New York, they’ll be headlining Webster Hall on March 31.

Labels: The xx