The Magic Numbers: One Singular Sensation

In the awkward first-date dynamic of the average music interview, the interviewer usually has the dramatic advantage of prior history.

With the help of a few press clips, he can identify the thrice-beaten dead-horse topics for any given band, and — depending on the mood and flow of the conversation—either humanely forego re-asking about them, or else buy time with their pathetic deployment. For The Magic Numbers, consider the following topics officially scorched earth: A) the fact that the band is composed of two brother-and-sister pairs, B) the Stodarts’ circuitous travels from a politically violent Trinidad to New York to the U.K., and C) any sonic kinship with the Mamas and the Papas or Pet Sounds-era Beach Boys. It’s perhaps a testament to Romeo Stodart’s warmth, charm and basic good sportsmanship that we discussed none of these things.

The interview itself was something of a breakthrough. After being obscured by the storm of dust kicked up by the merger of the Capitol and Virgin labels within the EMI family, the U.S. release date for sophomore disc Those the Brokes was repeatedly delayed, while the band was redirected to Astralwerks, who, Stodart explains, “were interested from day one. It all turned out to be a positive thing.”

With the American release happening this summer, things seem back on track even if the larger universe has shifted slightly. More interesting than even record label politics is The Magic Numbers’ unique space in the modern musical landscape. At a moment when the U.K. is rife with so many guitar-wielding Cockney street gangs clattering back the echoes of a Paul Weller tube ride, The Magic Numbers stand apart from any of the reigning “scenes.” “You see all these bands that look the same,” Stodart comments, “hopefully we’ll coexist alongside all the other stuff.”

When the band debuted in 2005, its distance from the New New Wave post-punk explosion was equally dramatic, and the English press in particular vivified le difference by waving the Next Big Thing flag with abandon. But to place The Magic Numbers on a pivot point between some imagined, rootsy realm of more personalized songwriting and folk-inspired integrity and the current crop of well-marketed angular rock seems overwrought, particularly when the shorthand inevitably involves some parsing of what the word “pop” might mean at a time when just about everything popular in rock circles is somehow “alternative,” and true pop music in its Beyoncé form basically has had nothing to do with Brian Wilson since the days of The Ronettes.

‘MORE SOULFUL’
There is no doubt that The Magic Numbers can at times be warm, fluffy and cooing in ways that must inevitably be described as “sun-drenched,” but on their second album Those the Brokes, the performances are looser, livelier and echo from places less predictable than Laurel Canyon or Malibu. For instance, the jaunty but insistent guitars and rolling bass line on “Take A Chance” casually mirror Dave Grohl’s brooding intro on the Foo fighters’ “Everlong,” while opener “This Is A Song” simmers with electronic flourishes at the outset.

Romeo Stodart finds other analogues. “This record’s more soulful,” he explains. “We’ve been listening to a lot of Stax records, with those great drums and bass. We started playing some songs like that, and it felt like a departure for a bit, but within a few hours of working on stuff it becomes The Magic Numbers. Generally, we listen to soul music, country music and singer/songwriters, the emphasis being on songwriting.”

“Undecided,” with its Memphis lilt, plays out the suggestion, as do the soul-gospel opening slides of “Slow Down.” If there’s a ’60s fetish to be found here it’s in the tendency to treat male/female harmony as a basic plot point in a far more Bradyesque and chipper way than, say, the Frank Black/Kim Deal deadpan siren/gutterball howler approach that frequently prevails in harder acts.

C’MON, GET HAPPY
The fact that The Magic Numbers’ choice of sonic textures winds up with a vibe that’s somehow “happier” is not lost on the band, who, for their part, are keen to have a Magic Numbers show be a fun experience, particularly at festivals where they’re not always preaching to the converted.

“For a festival we want to play more of the uptempo stuff. But we also try to make it really intimate. The best shows are the ones where you feel so involved with the group you’re seeing. When we leave and walk off the stage, you thrive on the idea that people connected and enjoyed it,” Stodart notes. But he’s quick to point out that a proper Magic Numbers show is not as committed to a single mood. “The perception is that we’re a happy, sunshine, summer ’60s band, [but] when we get more than an hour we can have more of a journey. When we walk offstage we ask each other how the show went and if it’s a quieter show sometimes it will feel really meaningful to us but the crowd might be quieter and we’ll ask ourselves, ‘Did they enjoy it?’”

On tours with everyone from The flaming Lips to U2 to a forthcoming jaunt with Rufus Wainwright, The Magic Numbers have had a chance to be fans themselves. “A lot of the bands we love and listen to, we’ve been able to play with. Touring with Rufus Wainwright — that’s a set we’ll watch every night.” Another component of the Numbers’ touring life is constant writing. “I’m always writing,” Stodart admits. “I’ve always been suspect of bands that take three months off to write records. Lyrically, I’m always writing things in a book. … You never get that hundred-percent thing on the road, but once we went into the studio, hearing it all back it fell into place. Because we were producing this record ourselves, we really tried to get the band across in terms of performances.”

The goal is an earnest connection. “We really want people to feel it,” Stodart muses.

The Magic Numbers’ essential wish is both lofty and simple. “I hope that we’re a band that people can believe in. We write about life and love and relationships that have gone wrong, and we’re trying to get that out. Listening to music you want to feel like this song is there to help you and comfort you. There are so many groups, but — given the chance — we’re a band that can hopefully have a long life in music. I want our music to be there for people.”