Demon Ways: Envelopes

“We’re Envelopes, and we’re here in London now after a very long and painful road trip through England, but now we’re going to get food so now we are very satisfied. We’re going to play the Metro tonight, one of four bands. The other ones I don’t remember what they’re called, but we’re called Envelopes and (putting on his ‘rock’ voice) we’re gonna tear the ****ing house down!” Adorably halting lead singer and guitarist Henrik leans into Gigwise’s Dictaphone so as to be heard over the loud chatter of Thursday-night London. Envelopes are hungry. If they appear less ‘crazy’ and willing to talk than we first expected then it’s entirely understandable, considering they haven’t even eaten since the night before, and had to drive down from York this morning.

So two hours before stage-time we’re sitting in a French restaurant deep in the centre of Soho. Envelopes’ manager Leo Silverman (ex-XL, who fell in love with Envelopes and promptly set up Brille records to put their music out) raves that this is his “favourite restaurant”, as Audrey, Envelopes’ sole female member, a French softly-spoken ex-Genetics student (in her own words, a course about “How to change flies into pigs, stuff like that”) examines the menu. She recommends the lamb.

The tale of how the Envelopes came together is, like their music, an un-conventional one. Indeed, bar Audrey, everyone else is from Sweden, home of The Cardigans and one increasingly incompetent England manager. When Gigwise asks how long Envelopes have been together, even drummer Filip isn’t quite sure: “It’s not really clear, because for like at least two years or something we just met about twice a year because we had some concerts, and mostly the concerts were in Paris where Audrey was living. So we met like three days before, practised like hell, had two concerts, and then went back to our separate lives. So I guess we can say that since March this year, we have actually been together as a real band, rehearsing, playing live a lot, recording a lot. Now it’s serious, definitely”

The big sign that Envelopes are definitely serious now comes in the shape of kaleidoscopic and quite wonderful debut album ‘Demon’. Released in August and slowly picking up a word-of-mouth momentum, it wouldn’t be surprising to see it riding high on many end-of-year lists. A mix of handclaps and keyboards, Belle and Sebastian and The Magic Numbers, it’s the sunny, literate, inter-continental and well, wonky soundtrack for next summer. Audrey: “I like it when they say this, ‘wonky’. I like that”

“I had never heard it before I came to England. First I thought it was kind of a bad thing, but it turns out y’know maybe it’s the best thing you could say about us because I think the word contains both originality and good coolness” adds second guitarist Fredrik. So, ‘Originality and ‘good coolness’ - an apt description for Envelopes if ever there was one.

Now based in York, and allegedly the de facto house band at their local York Fibbers (the band denies this, Filip exclaiming that it’s “a mis-understanding of the highest degree!”), Envelopes have been using this English base to make significant in-roads into the national indie consciousness: touring with Clor, raving about Good Shoes, being remixed by Test Icicles (Sam E Danger’s awesome re-working of ‘Sister In Love’ can be found on a limited 10” single release), and soon to head out again with the mighty Vincent Vincent And The Villains.

Yet, despite their ubiquity here, Envelopes are also close to winning over the hearts of many of their fellow Europeans. “We have played in France, Sweden, Denmark, Belgium and Spain as well as England” explains Henrik. “The best crowd was in Denmark. Because they were a bunch of sixteen-year olds. Or even younger maybe” says Martin, Legolas-haired bassist. Gigwise wonders where this is going. “Who liked to jump around, and they did this a lot at our concert. They had never heard anything from us before, and they were singing along, like the next time there was a chorus, they would sing it”

Un-surprisingly the London crowd later in the night are more restrained, but Gigwise is certain we see a few of the hipsters’ legs twitching, their mouths silently repeating the words to songs they’ve never heard, their smiles wider than before Envelopes began their ramshackle-cute half-hour tour de force in marvellously skewed pop. Audrey approaches Gigwise again after to gauge our opinion, and we tell her their music made us feel “giddy, obviously a good thing”

She smiles: “Maybe the music makes you feel not very stable. And I like that” Envelopes then: like losing your balance in a field of daisies.