On Bristol’s Gloucester Road is a local institution: Dave Giles Butchers. It is usually unremarkable – joints of meat hanging from the ceiling, chops and links of sausages awaiting collection by loyal customers. On this particular spring morning, though, there is a peculiar addition to the business’ usual sartorial aesthetic; behind the counter stand Josh Law and Ben Sadler of Getdown Services, posing for NME’s camera. The shop’s standard blue hairnets are present and correct, along with a decidedly less-standard uniform of denim meggings and nothing else.
“They’re leggings designed for men,” explains vocalist and guitarist Law over Zoom a couple of weeks later. “Look, NME is well-known and well-respected, but we’re not sexy, so we were never going to be giving it GQ. So, we suggested the most ridiculous thing we could think of, which is us in our meggings down the local butcher’s, fully assuming there’d be pushback and we could meet in the middle somewhere. But no, we got the green light straight away, and so we had to go through with it.”
Those familiar with Getdown Services will know to expect this kind of absurdity. Over the last five years, they’ve carved out a reputation for making some of the most idiosyncratic British music in recent memory, singing about everything from gentrification and everyday annoyances to foodstuffs and bodily fluids over a very specific blend of punk and disco. Since releasing their groove-driven, lo-fi debut single ‘Bad Weather’ in 2021, they’ve shared one studio album and four EPs, all of which have helped them build an increasingly bizarre musical world, become one of the most-talked-about live acts rising through the ranks of festivals and traditional venues, and racked up celebrity admirers including Walton Goggins, Harry Styles and Jools Holland.
When NME speak to Law and his fellow vocalist Sadler, it’s the morning after they’ve taped the first episode of the new season of Holland’s Later…, and they were delighted to find the host listening to their music as he was sitting in the makeup chair. They also won over a second member of One Direction, getting acquainted with fellow guest Niall Horan. “He was sound, all of his bandmates were sound,” grins Law. “We’re trying to befriend all of them. Zayn next, I think. I’ve messaged Louis, but I’ve not heard back from him yet.”
You wouldn’t bet against Getdown Services charming the lot of them – it’s something they’ve done to the general public time and again at festivals and on record. Theirs has been a word-of-mouth success; while their recorded output to date gives you a sense of what their weird world is all about, it’s been the crackling energy of their live shows that has really driven their rise. They are sweaty, anarchic affairs that never feel far from descending into chaos. The likes of Goldie Lookin’ Chain, Antony Szmierek and the reunited Super Furry Animals are among the acts Law and Sadler have opened for, their booking feeling like an act of genuine bravery. As headliners, you are running the risk of being blown off the stage.
“There’s less irony to what we do than people think” – Ben Sadler
The band is rooted in a friendship that began at school in the small Somerset town of Minehead and has stayed strong as they’ve meandered through different projects before landing on this current iteration. You can tell, too – speaking to NME from a hotel room in Coventry, they often finish each other’s sentences, as part of a droll shared conversational style that is punctuated by frequent peals of laughter. Along their journey, they’ve dealt with creative differences (a former bandmate once questioned the artistic worth of adding Blur’s ‘Song 2’ to their setlist) and performing in less-than-glamorous provincial towns of the UK. “Taunton, Bridgewater, Dinnington. Pontypool – we went international for that one,” laughs Law. “Then there was Edington summer fête, where a falconry act was on before us, and the tombola was going while we were playing.”
They talk with comedic relish about their early years now, nudging each other and grinning at scattered details of slapstick mishaps or insalubrious early gigs. It was a sense of frustration with all of that, though, that was ultimately the key driving force behind Getdown Services. “We played in Bristol, and we were just crippled by feeling like we were never good enough, or cool enough, to be there,” says Sadler of the jump from small town to big city. “We really felt like we were from Minehead, trying to talk to people and not knowing the bands they were referencing. We were really focused on the band; writing a lot, practising a lot, but nobody ever seemed to enjoy what we were doing.” Rather than let that stop them in their tracks, though, the pair decided to prioritise their own enjoyment, acknowledging that they were “ruining it for ourselves by taking it too seriously”.
The turning point came with the release of their debut record, ‘Crisps’, which opened them up to a new audience. Its slow-burning success helped them begin to feel more comfortable in their own skin. “I think we started off unhinged, and now we’re a bit more refined,” Law says. “Once you take the approach of ‘whatever happens, I’m still going to be making music’, it completely reframes your life. It gives you more energy and more mental capacity, and more time to consider that the things that are making you feel so shit aren’t other people or celebrities, they’re deep-seated.”
On their upcoming second album ‘Massive Champion’, due out August 14, they’re not lashing out quite as indiscriminately. “Even if you get out of that job you fucking hate, or that bad relationship or living situation, there’s still things within you to make you feel that way,” reasons Law. “You can make the mistake of thinking being cynical and a hater is actually quite intellectual, like fucking [writer and commentator] Will Self or somebody, but actually, you’re just being a bit of a prick. You’re an unhappy person, projecting their unhappiness onto the world. We’ve naturally progressed away from that.”
Instead, the record holds up an absurdist mirror to small-town British life with surreal and frequently laugh-out-loud results, like if The League Of Gentlemen had come with a dance-punk soundtrack. It’s a lurid triumph that has genuine signs of polish, but still packs the bite of the pair’s previous releases. ‘The Definitive Map’ is an uncompromising examination of Britain’s class divide that closes with the refrain “you fucking bastard! Twat!”, while ‘Probiotic’ plays like a particularly aggressive version of T. Rex, if Marc Bolan had ever taken serious exception to the concept of yoghurt with bits in it.
“You can make the mistake of thinking being cynical is intellectual, but actually, you’re just a prick” – Josh Law
There are also moments of affecting vulnerability and musical progression. Yo La Tengo would kill to have written the gorgeous, lo-fi ’What’s On Your Mind’, while there’s a nod to the trip-hop scene of their native southwest on the gently witty confessional closer ‘600 Dance Lessons’. “Not to be too bleak, but we were both pretty unhappy for most of our twenties. We were ready for a release, to take the piss a bit. Our gigs just went off the rails in those empty rooms, because it felt good to throw things at the audience and have a go at people; to be ridiculous and rude and sweary,” Sadler explains. “Ironically, we’ve found that having more confidence means we don’t have to be so boisterous – although there are still songs on this album where we’re just screaming by the end.”
Getdown Services might be evolving, but their gigs remain rambunctious to the point of being feral. It’s typical to see Law and Sadler fist-pumping and bouncing across the stage shirtless – an approach that has led some observers to suggest their sweaty shows might, on some level, be satirising toxic masculinity, by lacing their inherent silliness with the implied aggression of call-and-response terrace chants.
“I think there’s less irony to what we do than people think,” says Sadler, who references past descriptions of the band as “a pissed-up dad doing karaoke at a wedding with his top off”. ”That’s fine, but there’s a perception that if we’re taking our tops off despite not having the bodies of athletes, and shouting ‘oggy oggy oggy’, that we must be sneering at blokiness, that it must be some clever, nudge-wink thing.”
To Getdown Services, though, that train of thought says less about how they present themselves and more about their commentators’ perceptions of masculinity. Their on-stage antics, they also insist, are “not a bit”: “We’re just trying to jack the crowd up and entertain them, make them feel like they got their money’s worth,” Law elaborates. “I might not be what I’d be looking for if I went to see Mazzy Star, obviously. But it works for us.”
Their winning formula looks set to continue to work its magic, as the band gear up for a summer of festival appearances – including an unlikely slot at the Harry Styles-curated Meltdown at London’s Southbank Centre. The booking comes just two years after the duo referenced the pop phenomenon on their track ‘Caesar’, telling him to “dream on, buddy” after their tongue-in-cheek suggestion that he’d asked them “for a merger”. Now, that song stands as a bizarre example of life imitating art.
“It’s just mental to us that we’d be considered, really. The lineup is insane. We do genuinely like his music, and he’s a nice guy, by all accounts,” Law begins earnestly, but it’s not long until Getdown Services’ trademark humour comes back into play. “Hopefully, we can keep it up and be invited to more events like this – maybe one curated by Little Mix, or Olly Murs. And we’ll just keep working our way downwards until we get to One True Voice.”
Getdown Services’ ‘Massive Champion’ is out on August 14 via Breakfast Records.
Listen to Getdown Services’ exclusive playlist to accompany The Cover below on Spotify or on Apple Music here.
Words: Joe Goggins
Photography: Siôn Marshall-Waters
Denim leggings: Courtesy of Kapow Meggings
Location: Dave Giles Butchers
Label: Breakfast Records