Natasha Rainey reviews latest single “Desert Sauce” by Creeping Jean

Desert Sauce - review

If your musical appetite needs satiating, in the literal sense, look no further than Creeping Jean’s new single. Watermelon Sugar move over, it’s Desert Sauce time.

The Brighton-based 6 piece are definitely one’s to watch – in 2020, their singles Angel Breath and Stuck in My Ear have caught the ears (and eyes?) of Radio 1, 6 Music and Radio X. Whether it be surfing the radio waves, supporting The Kooks or shredding in their own headline shows, Creeping Jean are stamping their ground.

What is refreshing about the band is that they aren’t trying to blag their way through as another Southern band reviving another genre already too saturated as it is. There is anostalgia to the band as evidenced by their 60s and 70s influences, but this is fused with a modern psychedelia accenting Creeping Jean’s edge. I’m all here for the revivalsbut if the Northern bands’ niche is being Northern and the Southern bands’ niche is reviving old music, then there’s just a lot of the same in what should be radical new music. Anyway, I’m not even English and this isn’t Eurovision – carry on if you must.

Back to the single, a slightly innocuous title, it drips with innuendo after one listen. The provocative anthem is charged from start to finish and just begs to played live – I can already picture a sweaty room of gig-goers getting randy, and maybe a bit hungry, when Creeping Jean finally take to the stage with Desert Sauce.

The song pangs with the energy of I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor but instead of rehashing a classic, the lyrics are reorientated through dessert metaphors rendering the object of desire a lot sweeter and a lot less Topshop princess (RIP). The idea of a grotty club pull is certainly more enticing.

Starting off with the assertive: “you’re the dessert I need,” the subject is clear. Not entirely sure how I’d feel about being called a dessert but there are definitely worse things. Going on to list some more lovely treats, the verses peddle through with a seemingly simple rhythm and chord progression but it’s just the right combination to make the accompaniment pulse alongside the vocals.

The animated vocals of frontman Oliver Tooze are very inviting and decorate this dessert situation as a much more glamourous affair. The repeating “she knows I want her” of the course is wildly effective despite being the only straight to the point slice of the lyrics. But whether there’s desserts or not, the lingering “she knows I’m handy with candy” coupled with the Feeling Good-esque guitar is… sexy.

The intermittent lyric, “sugar, don’t break my teeth” again looks plain on paper but Tooze’s inflection makes would-be filings, mouth-watering. The echoing “sugar” is soon swallowed up by escalating guitars and drums before the final “candy” to mellow us out. Although how mellow can you be when someone says they’re handy with candy – I suppose it depends on the context.

While Desert Sauce is more contained than Creeping Jean’s former two singles, it’s still a bop. The band’s consistency is evidenced through more than their aesthetic; their catalogue as a whole and the individual singles stand as authentically without a need for comparison.

However, it’s very fitting, if not cheeky, to dangle sexual pleasure like a dessert. But the pubs are open, the diets can end, and Desert Sauce is finally available for your listening ears – have your cake and eat it.

Words - Natasha Rainey