So long as a loyal fanbase continues to sustain them, it’s not impossible to imagine more such bangers coming out of the Bangor band yet.Their fourth studio album, "Better Nature," was released in fall 2015 via the band’s own New Machine Recordings. Pints and shirts fly through the air as the crowd thrash around singing the guitar lines to steadfast hi-hat spankers What You Know and Something Good Can Work. Originality seems beyond Two Door Cinema Club, yet their melodic gift never lets them down. Dressed in a tight blue suit and polo neck, Trimble has developed a fancy for putting down his guitar and parading the stage, mic in hand like a kitschy Vegas crooner, as if in search of his inner Brandon Flowers. There are flashes of Simple Minds in the synthy post-punk pretentions of Dirty Air, while Satisfaction Guaranteed seeks some of the 1975’s success in channelling glossy 80s arena sounds. Songs from the band’s latest album, False Alarm, pivot towards electronic pop in search of renewed relevancy, with tuneful if uninspiring results. Judging by the still very youthful look of their fanbase, they seem to have left a mark on sticky indie disco dancefloors that won’t be scrubbed away any time soon. More likely it’s thanks to the work Two Door Cinema Club have put into building a following through relentless touring – a schedule that caused frontman Alex Trimble to have a physical and mental breakdown in 2014. Maybe it’s a reaction against how outmoded such uncomplicated bands have become in the age of mumble rap and other more vogueish pop.
The Northern Irishmen aren’t the only band of their era to survive but, as a live concern at least, still thrive in a way that confounds critical expectation (see too the Wombats, White Lies and others). To hear Two Door Cinema Club launch into Undercover Martyn, one of their stock-in-trade breakout singles, and watch a sold-out crowd in a sizeable venue go bananas for it, is to appreciate how thoroughly music has changed in the last decade, yet how little many seem to care.
W eedy-thin gambolling guitar lines pitched against hi-hat-spanking splashy disco beats – few movements in music were built on narrower tropes than late-noughties British indie.
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