London boy girl duo Summer Camp, high on secrecy and low on a lot of radars, are like members of royalty from some far off country that you’ve never heard of. You might be standing in line at the shops next to the King of some small island in the South Pacific, but you’d never know. Once minute you’re at the checkout with a tube of toothpaste and packet of crisps and the next you’ve managed to completely ignore King George Tupou V of Tonga. That’s how it is with Summer Camp. They should be famous basically everywhere, but so far they’re worshipped only by those in the know.
Mixing moments of chill-wave with the effervescent synth pop of Pains Of Being Pure Of Heart with laquering of the surf-rock indie sound that’s kind of a thing at the moment, Summer Camp are for you if you like your pop delicate but direct. They’re also definitely worth seeing if you missed King George Tupou in the supermaket checkout that one time and you’re trying to fix your karma. Which will be difficult, most would admit. He’s a king in Tonga don’t you know.
