“I
want a high top,” announces
Dom, the singer of Sunset
Cinema Club, anti-heroes of
the current music scene in
Birmingham. I assure him that
with enough determination, and hair spray,
anything is possible. Greg, his slightly less
supportive band mate, reminds him that he
might end up looking like Mick Hucknall. The
boys, who took their name from a local but
now abandoned porn emporium, have been
together for a devoted seven years and met
over an exchange of grunge tapes in the late
90s. They found their drummer John when
a local punk band parted ways, and the
rest is history. They are described on their
MySpace as the ‘Pixies if they were more
black’ by ‘some dude from Lichfield’, which
is a fair analysis. Their songs harbour horny
undertones and a funk-rock awkwardness.
Sunset Cinema Club describe their music
as noisy, funky, dance-y, unpredictable party
music. Greg says “It’s difficult to explain
what we sound like. We try not to rip off any
one band; we rip off about ten bands!” Song
writing duties are split equally between
Greg and Dom. “The song writing in the
band is half and half, but we do interfere
with each other’s writing. If I do something
abysmal then Dom will say ‘That’s crap — do
something else’ and if Dom does something
that’s too cutting edge for my ears, I’ll go
and bastardise it with some poppy middle
eights.” When we move on to the awkward
subject of who writes the band’s rather horny
lyrics, the boys erupt into laughter. “What you
hear is a much toned down version of what
was intended, but it’s more about us failing
in that department. Our roadie hogs all the
girls. He’s more in touch with the youth — he
listens to Avril Lavigne and all that jazz!”
I interrogate them about what they’re
listening to at the moment. Judging from
previous answers, I get the feeling that it
won’t be anything current. Greg admits:
“I’m listening to Big Country and Kid Creole
and the Coconuts, a big funk band from the
80s — Princess Di was a big fan of them; she
hired them to do one of her birthday parties.”
Dom, on the other hand, has less obscure
tastes: “I was listening to Tom Waits in my
car.” “Everything after 1996 is crap,” says
Greg audaciously. “A lot of bands that I hear
today sound like they’re playing different
versions of the Power Ranger’s theme tune,
except they’ve added lyrics about depression
and obsession!”
However, the boys think the current music
scene in Birmingham is thriving, and take
me through a few names to watch out for:
“There’s a new band called Calories that we
like a lot. Ace Bushy Strip Tease are a crazyass
band too, and Miss Halliwell, who have
two bassists, and they’re doing something
that’s quite strange, but really good.“
Sunset Cinema Club are popular with the
other new and local bands in Birmingham,
and their talents stretch further than the
band. They run a successful club night called
Tropical Hotdog, which brings the locals
flocking. Dom also works in a local recording
studio, so he’s created demos for many of
From left: Greg, John, Dom
the up and coming bands in the area. “People
like us, we’re liked … we have our own club
night and we give local bands gigs, which
helps no end. If we were a high school kid,
we’d be the kid that got on with the geeks
and the jocks.”
The band has just finished recording an
album. “We don’t know how we’re going to
get it out there, but we will,” explains Greg.
“Every song on the album is quite poppy and
catchy, so now we’re wondering if we should
go weird. We’re in a confused stage at the
moment — it’s called a quarter life crisis I
think! I’m thinking of doing some improvised
sax and stuff. We might go all contemporary
on the next record, but we’ll see.”
Age seems to be a pressing subject for
the boys, which seems strange given that
they’re only 25. “I think maybe 28-30 might
have to be our cut-off point for SCC. I’ll
just become part of an Oasis tribute act or
something,” muses Dom. Greg overhears
the conversation and doesn’t realise we’re
constructing Dom’s career fall-back plan.
“What’s going on here then?” asks Greg. I
delicately explain that Dom’s left Sunset. The
boys roar with laughter and admit, “We’re
like two senile old coots chewing hay on a
porch.” For now though, the boys will have to
put their zimmer frames to one side and set
their sights on Brum domination.
www.myspace.com/sunsetcinemaclub
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