Autocamper are like a breath of fresh air, and one of several bands who have picked up the proverbial gauntlet to keep the jangling end of indie music alive. It would be lazy to reel off the band many influences, and would do them a disservice; you just need to listen to “What Do You Do All Day?” to appreciate they clearly have an impressive collective knowledge of what’s gone before but also with an eye on the future.
Autocamper are the perfect pop tonic to our Age of Anxiety. “What Do You Do All Day?” is their debut album and their wide-eyed reflections on unrequited romances, bedroom tiffs and hungover misdemeanors effortlessly retrofit the jangle pop sounds of the ’80s without any trace of C86 revisionism. Not twee, not anorak, not lucky, just pop: it’s these truths that distinguish them from their peers, the hollow strains of Instagram Indie and the corporate pop that forces us to be joyful. RIYL: Postcard Records, The Pastels, Sarah Records, early Flying Nun label.
Manchester’s Autocamper are the perfect pop antidote to the city’s predictable post-punk machismo. Like a Northern kitchen sink rendering of The Vaselines’ call and response motif, vocal duties are shared by Jack Harkins and Niamh Purtill — their world-weary reflections on bedroom tiffs and hungover misdemeanors capture the jangle pop spirit of the ’80s without the C86 revisionism.
Recorded at Glasgow’s Green Door Studio and produced by Chris McCory of Catholic Action, Autocamper shed their bedroom pop roots on their debut LP while retaining the candid, bittersweet sincerity of earlier releases. Vocalist and guitarist Jack Harkins’ casual lilt often resembles a less baritone, Northern English iteration of Calvin Johnson, countering keyboardist Niamh Purtill’s soft, whisper-like timbre. This classic dynamic runs through the album, yielding a tenderness that strikes a perfect balance — never too cloying, and offering a modern twist on the unpretentious earnestness found in ’60s sunshine pop of groups like The Millennium.
A good melody is inherently sincere as it originates from an authentic emotional space. In the case of Autocamper, memorable melodies are abundant, shaped by an impressive collective knowledge of music’s past, present, and future. Their sound is both nostalgic and fresh, combining the DIY pop sensibilities of the early Flying Nun and Sarah label bands with the jangling, melodic impulse of James Kirk-era Orange Juice, while also capturing the heartfelt songwriting of Curt Boetcher and Sandy Salisbury.
“Map Like A Leaf” parallels the later output of The Pastels, a connection strengthened by Tom Crossley from the band contributing his flute to the track. On “Dogsitting,” Niamh’s pleasantly wonky organ echoes Martin Duffy’s keyboard ruminations during mid-period Felt. The rhythm section, comprising Harry Williams on bass and Arthur Robinson on drums, resides somewhere between the crispness of The Feelies and the pure, youthful pop essence of Motown, evinced in Robinson’s complete control of the snare. Those bouncy basslines act as a shimmering glue that binds the pieces together, not unlike the standout moments of The Field Mice’s Michael Hiscock.
Autocamper add colour to the everyday; transforming a sigh-ridden, pedestrian Sunday into moments of fleeting optimism amid the tangled web of love and life in The Age of Anxiety. Not twee, not anorak, not lucky, just pop: it’s these truths that distinguish them from their peers, the hollow strains of Instagram Indie and the corporate pop that forces us to be joyful.
Out on Slumberland Records / Safe Suburban Home Records on the 11th July 2025
The Fat Angel Sings 