Experimental soundscapes serving as alternatives to boring four-chords in indie rock have broken the internet and the industry this past year. Every music fan knows — and has an opinion on — Geese, Fontaines D.C. or Black Country, New Road. Seeing musicians around my age reinvent classic elements of post-punk is refreshing, and I understand why this genre is becoming so popular with college-aged listeners.
Dry Cleaning’s new record is not as viral as Geese’s “Getting Killed” or Fontaines D.C.’s “Romance.” However, if you enjoy niche sub-genres and music that isn’t molded to make a hit, Dry Cleaning’s “Secret Love” deserves your attention.
Formed in 2017 in South London, Dry Cleaning is a post-punk band composed of vocalist Florence Shaw, guitarist Tom Dowse, bassist Lewis Maynard and drummer Nick Buxton. Following their tour with Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds in 2024, the band released their third studio album this January.
What differentiates Dry Cleaning from other current post-punk acts is their commitment to originality and experimentation. In a recent interview, drummer Nick Buxton said, “Everyone has quite a strong philosophy on their playing and how they approach their instrument, how they want to play and where their tastes are.”
This openness to experimentation is at the heart of “Secret Love.” Some songs are dominated by grimy guitars and eerie melodies, while others feature slinky bass lines and groovy drum beats. Shaw’s vocals stand in sharp contrast to the wildly varying instrumentals. Rather than singing, she recites. Her ability to exhibit emotional depth with a relatively static cadence throughout the record is fascinating.
While some people might, it would be unjust to characterize Shaw’s spoken-word style and peculiar lyricism as merely comedic and satirical. With vivid imagery (“A fringe with gel / Salt, sugar / Vivid dish cloths / Lava skylight”) and nostalgic undertones (“When I was a child I wanted to be a horse”) she gives us a peek inside her soul.
Her style has often been compared to gluing together scraps of momentary thoughts and intrusive instincts. It would be impossible to pinpoint the meaning behind certain lines for anyone but herself. In the song “Cruise Ship Designer,” Shaw recites, “I make sure there are hidden messages in my work.” It’s as if she wants the listener to poke at the meaning, but not to the extent that an obsession with the subtext overpowers the listening experience.
What makes “Secret Love” stand out in the band’s discography is Shaw’s creation of characters within the narratives in nearly every song. There is the earnest but embarrassed lover struggling with emotional intimacy in “The Cute Things,” the insecure wellness influencer espousing clearly bad advice on looking young in “Evil Evil Idiot,” and a cruise ship designer convincing the listener of their career choice in “Cruise Ship Designer.”
Some of these characters appear significantly detached from reality, and Shaw exaggerates certain aspects of their personal and professional lives. She speaks from inside the character, in first person, but doesn’t portray them as heroic or romantic figures. She discloses their messy and vulnerable traits, portraying ordinary anxieties surrounding intimacy and self-doubt and productivity in these character studies. In a way, by giving these characters complex voices, she humanizes them.
One noticeable thread tying the songs together is the mundane and steady passage of time in mundane everydayness. In the opening track, the narrator spends her day continuously hitting her head as a ritual to get accustomed to her uncertainty about “having experiences.” The character of “My Soul / Half Pint” questions what it means to be a woman if she hates cleaning so much. Her frustration turns into a fixation on counting (“I love to count, it relaxes me / And it gives me / An achievable goal”). In “Let me grow and you’ll see the fruit,” she wishes for a “A whole day to spend / No limit, no restriction, no interruption.” Throughout the album, there’s a clear longing for more time, balanced with the confusion of still being unable to grapple with what that time means. Such features of everyday life are magnified to a level of absurdity as Shaw’s vocals mesh with the tense, distorted guitars and ticking bass line.
The closing track “Joy” perfectly rounds up the album. With the upbeat rock groove, which contrasts the other songs’ haunting melodies, and Shaw’s rare melodic chorus, the song urges the listener to “Don’t give up on being sweet” because with hope and joy, “We’ll build a cute harmless world.” Here, I witness the project’s ethos. Beneath all the lamentations for our world’s imperfections, Dry Cleaning is a band that nurtures a strong, secret love for living.
Andrea Miloshevska PO ’28 is from North Macedonia. She really likes the British Isles’ post-punk scenes.
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