The chemistry between these two makes the band: punk’s favourite besties are back, bigger than ever.
After an extended hiatus, solo projects and a sense that it could all be over forever, our worst fears were confirmed: Slaves were no more. After three cracking studio efforts and a reputation as one of the best live acts on the circuit, Slaves vanished before our eyes. Out of the ashes rose SOFT PLAY, a symbolic name change characterising the band’s rebirth, rekindling friendship and re-igniting their love for the game.
Before we dive headlong into the new gear, it’s important to recognise and contextualise SOFT PLAY’s importance: their first record, 2015’s Are You Satisfied? was a quite sensational debut album. Witty and angry, a record that made you smile and laugh as you navigated the circle pit. A top-ten album that predates the ‘post-brexit-post-punk’ movement by a few years. If this record had dropped in 2019, ‘Slaves’ would have taken over the world.
Two further efforts landed in 2016 and 2018 respectively, and these records seemed to take something of a strain on the duo: their sense of loving the band, and the inherent feeling of fun that makes SOFT PLAY so special was waning. Regardless, Take Control and Acts of Fear and Love are transcendent in their quality. SOFT PLAY have been underrated for almost a decade, and finally, with their rebirth, they’re getting the recognition they deserve.
From the very start of Heavy Jelly, the sense that SOFT PLAY are so back is palatable. A chorus of ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ is punctured by a cacophonous riff, and the signature clatter of Isaac Holman’s drum kit (no hi-hat, remember). “I’m the nicest dickhead you’ve ever met”, is pure SOFT PLAY: self-deprecating and real, the duo have a knack for self-aware observations, a theme that runs deep on this record. You get no time to catch your breath before ‘Punk’s Dead’: the inimitable comeback single is as fresh as when you first heard it in 2023, not to mention an all-timer SOFT PLAY lyric, “Johnny Rotten is turning in his bed, I was gonna say grave but the fucker ain’t dead!” This record starts at a hundred miles an hour, and there are no breaks on this thing: ‘Act Violently’ goes as hard as anything the band have done, their early punk and hardcore chops shine through relentlessly, and the duelling vocals of Holman’s lead and Vincent’s backing is a slice of vintage SOFT PLAY.
‘Isaac is Typing…’ and ‘Bin Juice Disaster’ is a double play for the ages: the former groves and snakes with a sludge funk riff almost vulgar in how infectious it is, before it becomes even filthier in its breakdown. The latter is more 442 punk rock, but it is undeniable how hard it goes: we are approaching the halfway point of this record and there isn’t an ounce of fat on this thing. Who else could write a driving, Germs-sounding punk banger about lighting incense because you’ve overfilled your bin? Fucking SOFT PLAY, that’s who.
We continue at pace: ‘Worms on Tarmac’ is a kind of twisted love letter to worms by way of apologising for fucking up their environment, from the perspective of said worm. Holman shows off his lyrical prowess with a superb flow here. There is hardly a thing to critique about this piece from SOFT PLAY: they’re witty and sincere, hard and soft, big and small all at once. One second you’re raging to the driving punk funk of ‘John Wick’, next the band are satirising gym rats on the sensational ‘Mirror Muscles’.
Aside from the droll, snappy lyrics, you have to give credit for how preposterously massive this band sounds. They’re a two-piece, and the relentless noise that these guys make is staggering. Vincent’s riff work is fantastic throughout, he gives Holman space to weave his flows and crashing drums whilst toying with squealing pitch bends (see ‘The Mushroom and the Swan’) and walls of feedback. The chemistry between these two makes the band: punk’s favourite besties are back, bigger than ever.
The final cut on Heavy Jelly lifts this album from very good, to blossoming into their best work to date: ‘Everything and Nothing’ is wrought, emotional, heartbreaking and ultimately euphoric. They candidly discuss grief, and the pain in Holman’s voice is palatable, it bleeds through the speakers. It kind of feels like a full-circle moment for SOFT PLAY, this is their triumph, and no band deserves it more.
featured image: Jude Harrison
