I Blame Coco
01.06.10
I Blame Coco's new single is live-favourite 'Self Machine' and it's out on Monday July 12. What a lovely thing...
www.myspace.com/iblamecoco
He Said
"Come a little closer for fucks sake, I don't bite"
There is no doubt that Coco can confuse you. With one glance she has the bone chilling stare of a thoroughly pissed off ice queen of Narnian decent, and the other, well she is Kevin the teenager's indier than thou cousin and she seems content to swing wildly between either throughout her set at the flowerpot on Tuesday night.
She - "You look good"
I chose to ignore the sound of gritted teeth that splintered and shattered every syllable and take it as the compliment that it was almost meant to be. Since we had last spoke a certain amount of stability had entered my life and I was pleased it had not gone unnoticed.
Me - "Thanks, what you been up to?"
Over the next five and three quarter minutes she slagged off many, praised few and made me snort water through my nose out of sheer unbridled laughter. After trading insults and pleasantries we turned our tongues to Coco.
My perception had been slightly adrift. I always assumed Coco traded in fuzzy acoustic reggae type stuff but after the opening song "Party Bag" it was clear that she had embraced her electro pop leanings and set about making a clutch of power pop songs. There is no doubt that she is awkward, sometimes even revelling in it but Coco does deliver on her intent.
I don't need to tell you what the elephant in the room was, its clear and everyone knows it but Coco does her best to steam the tide. There are clear advantages to her heritage but she doesn't go out of her way to hide them, in fact its plain to see she doesn’t give a fuck, so why should we?
We live in times where having famous parents does undoubtedly give you an edge, but surely it's what they do with it that we should judge? And with Peaches smeared across the streets, I'd sooner be sharing a mug with Coco.
She Said
I haven't seen him for ages, almost two months. It seems the allure of regular sex is deemed more appealing than going out on an evening with me. You see he has only gone and got himself all loved up, and he's managed to charm her into shacking up together. This boy has the knack of landing on his feet and in the space of a few months he's got his dream job (agent for pole dancers) and a nice girl (I don't THINK she is a pole dancer).
Anyway I was a bit late but hastened my step once I received a text from him - "Hurry up I look like a plonker". I hadn't seen him for a while and the contrast was startling. I notice he looked good, less grey round the edges, and, well, clean. This really pissed me off. I'm the one on time, I'm the clean one, I'M the sorted one. There he was looking all fresh and carefree, a Perrier on one hand and a smug look dashed across his face as he pontificated about his pseudo married life. I ordered a beer and nodded in the right places and tried not to punch him in the face.
I saw Coco Sumner the lead singer of I Blame Coco and incidentally the 19-year old daughter of rock god Sting at Rough Trade a few weeks earlier. She did a cover of Neil Young’s "Only Love can Break your Heart" along with Fyfe Dangerfield of the Guillemots which was so tentatively touching as soon as I heard she was playing I had decided to attempt to get the boy off the sofa.
She is of course battling the media wave of skepticism because of her heritage but there is something genuinely unique about Coco, an impish charm which is almost otherworldly. Awkward but not unconfident. She has a lot against her, she's impossibly pretty and has a famous father in the industry, facts that may open doors but are quick to slam in the face if talent is not justified.
Well after the gig we had to leave straight away, He had to get back to that girl. I wanted to stay out and party, but didn't want to on my own so I went home grumpy. I don't Blame Coco at all, I blame him.
