Sing Sing, the duo so good that they named themselves twice, are terribly excited about their debut release, the multi-layered, symphonic, breezemonster, "Feels Like Summer." They've no reason to be this jumpy: Lisa O'Neill cut her teeth with Locust mainman Mark van Hoen (appearing on the tremendous "Morning Light" album) and The Mad Professor, while Emma Anderson may ring your bells as the former guitarist, singer, songwritery figure in sadly defunct almost-hitsters Lush. Previous brushes with the music industry haven't dented the excitement for Lisa:
"I try to be calm and rational about it," she gushes, "but every now and again I get waves of excitement - walking down the street and going 'Oh my God! This is brilliant!' I'm usually quite calm, you have to understand."
You might expect that Emma would find the rigmarole of settling down in a new band ("not exactly starting from scratch, but it's certainly a new beginning") to be a tiresome chore after success with Lush. Not so, she says. In fact, quite the opposite: "With that band, quite apart from the other things that affected us towards the end, it was getting really difficult and...stale. And even though Sing Sing are not poised to sell loads of records, it's still the same kind of thrill I felt before."
All that "not being poised to sell records" business is a bit of a moot point, frankly. When your debut release is as inescapably tuneful as "Feels Like Summer", a song that shafts sunlight through windows even as we surge headfirst into rubbish winter, and when your catalogue of songs is so rich that you can afford to fling luminous pop belters like "Hit And Run" and "Command" onto your b-sides, there's always the slight chance that the record-buying public will see sense.
But how do the duo feel about succeeding in the footsteps of Mel & Kim, Elaine Page & Barbra Dickson, and - erk! - Alisha's Attic? "It's quite irritating to be put in that bracket," says Lisa, doing her best not to sound quite irritated. "But you'll always be compared to other duos, or other types of act entirely. I mean, so far we've had comparisons with Saint Etienne, Duran Duran and Burt Bacharach, which has all been a bit odd."
"I'm quite looking forward to releasing something that isn't jolly," Emma adds. "A lot of our stuff is not very poppy at all."
Surely pop has a place in the house of Sing Sing? There must be some Eighties vinyl in the loft, at least...
"I had a bit of an A-ha, Tears For Fears fixation when I was 12 or 13," Lisa concedes. "Actually I still really like those albums. After that I went really, horribly gothic, and ended up with a shrine to Siouxsie Sioux."
And now that you're in a band, have you come across any mad fans of your own?
"Well, my granny really likes Sing Sing. I was rather pleased about it, and she was going 'My! This is marvellous!' Unfortunately, she also suggested that we put the single in for the Eurovision Song Contest."
Praise indeed. But serious issues must be tackled. If Sing Sing were a method of cooking eggs, which would they be?
"It might be something to do with egg codling," suggests Emma.
Is he related to Suede's keyboardist?
"It's this china thing they had in the old days, with a metal top, and, er...Sorry, I don't know very much about egg codling."
Lisa is not taken with the codling idea. However..."We could be a souffle!"
"Always rising!" Emma gasps.
"Light and fluffy, with lots of depth. And the constant risk of disaster."
Don't believe that last bit. Sing Sing are risk free.
Peter Robinson.
Click here toreturn to the Melody Maker page
Get your own Free Home Page