Name: Matchy Matchy
Brand: The Ballet

Bonus disc

Bonus disc: No

Catalogue number

FKRD72.1

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Colour

Colour details

Discogs ID

Discs

Download code

Download code: No

Rough Trade Exclusive

Rough Trade Exclusive: No

Extended format

Extended format: No

Format detail

Format Music US

Limited edition

Release date

2019-07-26

Signed copies

Signed copies: No

Supplier US

Tax rate US

Sales:8.875

UPC / Barcode

5057805017271

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1 / Extended format: No / LP / Rough Trade Exclusive: No / Signed copies: No

Artist

The Ballet

Genre US

Rock-Pop

Label US

Fika Recordings

Matchy Matchy opens up like a stranger on a gay hookup app: “Wanna play?” Identities are floated, compliments proffered. “Do you want to call me son or Daddy?/You’re so pretty, my femme, my fatty.” The electro-pop pulse twinkles with promise; it might bloom like a Troye Sivan anthem. But the curious lurker won’t be pinned down. “I’m just checking things out,” he sighs. And the song wanders off.<br><br>This amiable embrace of ambivalence distinguishes Greg Goldberg and Craig Willse’s output as the Ballet from the work of their funny musical uncles, like the Magnetic Fields’ implacably ironic Stephin Merritt, the Hidden Cameras’ riot auteur Joel Gibb, even fairy godfathers Pet Shop Boys. It might be the healthiest way to cope with a community that, 50 years after the Stonewall riots, encompasses both pink-cape-wearing Tony winner Billy Porter and Trump-approved Republican ambassador Richard Grenell, public intellectuals like Alaska Thunderfuck and concern trolls like Andrew Sullivan. At this point, some gay men want to diversify society just enough to squeeze in but otherwise resemble the bigots who hate them. It’s an ugly look, but then, some people like ugly. Don’t let it spoil your day.<br><br>Matchy Matchy dons its titular wink at over-coordination with a limited sonic palette of bubbling synths, carefully strummed guitar, and featherlight drums. Lyrically, it’s much more promiscuous, depicting the diversity of 2019 gays if not always embracing them. One might successfully navigate his “First Time in a Gay Bar,” but the smalltown boy in “Jersey” stalls for almost five minutes, barely gathering the courage to finally say “I just wanted to hide away with you and never come back,” as a Motorik rhythm never quite shifts into gear. “Messing Around” sounds like an update of Belle and Sebastian’s “Seeing Other People” for the masc-for-masc crowd, in which the guys are old enough to fuck but not mature enough to admit they’d like more. “It’s just a couple hours/Every week or two,” Goldberg sings. “We’re just a couple of guys/But you’ve got that look in your eyes.” It sours, though, the way these things do, into a slight anthem for a city where men leave each other for strangers on a plane, or spend boozy nights deconstructing monogamy under awnings in the rain, or set up joint hookup accounts they don’t always check together.

Matchy Matchy

Music US