Funny thing, fate. As Sarah records prepares to shut up shop after 100 Devoutly Indie (TM) releases, the label seems to have more like-minded contemporaries than ever before. The can't-get-out-of-bedsit ethic has gone bonkers to such an extent that it almost (I said almost) feels like 1985, whereby the entire disclocated underground fanzine/venue/label/band scene is unwittingly poised on the brink of some C86 (ask your parents) style mini-explosion.
And this is a great week for context. To apopt crass footie terminology, we've had the high-profile, high-cost Makita pre-season tournament between the aforementioned cheeky chappies; over the next couple of weeks the rest of the 'Britpop' 'Premier' league (see Pulp, Sleeper, The Bluetones, Menswear, uh, Fluffy) join the 'Quick! The students are back with grants to burn!' fray; and so now we have the indie-calm before the crypto-corporate storm.
This is the point where the biweekly dole cheque is more important than the midweek chart position. Because, infintely more Mega City 4 than Bastard Megastore, for seven days only the indie worm isn't so much turning as getting drunk and indulging in a spot of breakdancing.
Bis is a good place to start. Particularly as the eager Glasgow trio have reactivated something once (briefly) called 'punk/disco', a stroppy little genre that manages to be 'cute' whilst intoning "Burn down the cities and smash all the walls/ This is our country Bis Nation won't fall!". One part Devo, two parts Huggy Bear and several parts joyously naive enthusiasm, Bis use keyboards, guitars and microphones like most suicide bombers use grenades, ie, carelessly.
So that's the rambling bit out of the way, then.
Indie thrill: Amanda from Bis produces a publication called Funky Spunk. Crazy 'zines, man!