The closing lyric on "You & I", the fourth song on Kotki Dwa's second album, aptly sums up the British trio's ethos, even if they're not necessarily singing to themselves: "Keep up the energy/ The ethic won't betray you in the end/ You may collapse when you are finished with it." What greater insult to willing ears than a band boasting about how little effort they've put into something, how artless they profess their so-called art to be? Plopping the current crop of herky-jerky British indie bands into a science-fair situation, Kotki Dwa are the kids that turn up with a fully functioning Rube Goldberg device designed to delight and surprise, whilst the Vaccines idly spoon baking powder into a jug of Coca Cola and call it "explosive." If it all goes to shit and comes to nothing, at least Kotki Dwa know they tried, though there's no real danger of that.
Kotki Dwa's Alex and Tristan Ostrowski, along with school pal Tom Walker, appealed to Britain's National Trust (a conservation charity aimed at protecting important properties, gardens, and nature reserves) for help making Staycations, eschewing a traditional record label in favor of doing something more creative. The Trust agreed, and the band ended up recording the album in a number of their properties across the UK: old mansions, historic gardens, haunted attics, storied bedrooms. Of course, you can't hear this on the record (aside from the odd harpsichord or grand piano that they ran across in these stately old homes, and a bit of roomy ambience), nor can you hear the album's glorious packaging. But the band's enthusiasm for creating a consummate experience sparks throughout Staycations.
The record's closest musical relative in recent years is Metronomy's The English Riviera, which also conceptually glamorized tepid British climes as escapist boltholes. But Staycations isn't quite as stylistically pristine as Metronomy's third album, its sustained, castigating synths and excitable guitar fizzing like the cogs and whirligigs of a machine in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. They're also a weather-beaten Clor, left to pale on the end of a pier, occasionally a tin-pot Roxy Music with XTC-like tendencies, combining the fervor of Wild Beasts' debut with the lyrical thoughtfulness of their last. Those comparisons to British art-rock stalwarts aside, there's plenty novel about Kotki Dwa, not least the fact that their songs don't really have choruses. The only one that does is "She Likes It", whose warm analog synths flare like the lights on an arcade machine jacked up on too many volts, before cooing woodwind decorates Alex's reverent description of a lady swimming in a reservoir. The song springs back to life, presumably as the dame splashes him for being such a big, moony fool.
Charm is certainly one of Kotki Dwa's calling cards. The couplet "Pale streak of mayonnaise/ Why do you hate holidays?" on the puppyish title track is a perfect mini portrait of a grumpy picnic, though it's also indicative of the disquiet at the heart of Staycations: where unease creeps into picturesque scenes. The skittering piano tangle of "Bad Timing" sums up the intrusion neatly toward its end: "I could be wrong/ But when I see the pictures of the enemy/ The beast has won in some small way/ In silhouette he burns all day." It's a familiar feeling to anyone who's ever broken their own vow never to look at a foe's online profile, only for their face to linger. Mental conviction is what powers the notion of a so-called "staycation," suspending disbelief and convincing yourself that you're on holiday when you're at home. Happily, none is required to immerse yourself in Kotki Dwa.
