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To a certain extent, true quality is an inbuilt human asset. A culmination of this quality, at least where music is concerned, can appear to be a rarity. In an industry that seems to have abandoned quality, in favour of readily disposable quantity, it’s bands like Superfood that fight in the corner of talent, fight with tenacity and fight in the name of progress.
To take it down to a very basic level of observation - after assuming the fact that anyone with a partially trained ear and a decent eye for musical flare would recognise Superfood as a gifted band within the first three and a half minutes of watching them live - they’re essentially a message to any sycophantic upstarts that reckon getting tarted up, chucking a couple of guitars together and swaggering around like a Gallagher entitles them to the perks and prestige that accompanies musical achievement. It isn’t easy to be that instinctively tight, and Honey, real grooves aren’t cheap...
Their single, ‘Bubbles’ stands out in particular. It’s catchy without resorting to cliché, tireless without becoming stuffy, 2 and a half minutes of clear, well formulated ideation – it’s actually a perfect pop song.
Their dynamic landscape fluctuates between harsh, industrial channels, and smokestacky funk with grace and precision. There’s a fine line between onstage chemistry and being over rehearsed, quick glances with the intent of conveying a pace change, or an ad-lib are easily distinguishable from panicked looks of insecurity. Their presence as a complete unit, suggests that even if they were practising in an empty room, or playing to a crowd of 4, their allied energy would be unwavering.
Music isn’t a game at present, it’s a murky swamp full of false intentions and grinning tory MP’s holding major label contracts in hands stained by broken melodic integrity. Superfood, amongst others are the backstreet antidote. Join their revolution.

Benjamin Maney
Psychedelia