Chet FakerIvan Maiden and Joy Orbison walk into a bar. They're joined by Jeff Leppard and Roy George. The mood is tense. One of their own has outed themselves, bringing undue attention to their group. “He doesn't even sound like Chet Baker,” begins Leppard, breaking the ice. “That's why he's Faker,” offers Maiden, “and anyway if Baker came back do you think he'd still be playing smooth West Coast jazz or would he kick out some folk-influenced jazzy electro R&B amalgam like Faker's doing?“
“It's 2012 after all,” chimes in Orbison, “everything's been done before. Hell, mainstream is the new indie.”
“Well, if you can get past the silly name then we're left with some pretty straight-up crooning,” suggests Maiden ruefully, “jazzy folk tunes with an at times emotive cracked voice over gentle house breaks.”
“Yeah, it's all about the vocals,” agrees George, “a kind of subdued multi-tracked soul; they're mixed high, so your attention is drawn to them.”
“But it all sounds so new, and hints at so much from the past,” laughs Leppard, “everything from fractured hip hop to electro folk. Wait! Is that even a genre?”
“Not to mention you can sing along,” begins Orbison. ”He sounds smoky and thoughtful; the tunes are quite beautiful.”
They all sip on their coffees for a few moments, lost in thought about the enigma that is Chet Faker. “He's a little bit of a modern lover too,” offers George, “songs about lust, sex and the ladies, but he does do it with style. I'll give him that.“
The others agree, staring into their coffees. They're happy for the discussion. But ultimately nothing feels resolved.
