“I was sat in there, two guys in backpacks eating Subway and they were like ‘are you going to see Superfood?’ I was like fuck. They’re going to see our band.”
They’d been together for three months at the time, surprising considering how tightly-packed their nostalgic trip of a debut set ended up being. The ‘90s influence was clear as day. They might as well have invited the Fresh Prince of Bel Air on stage with them.
“Some of the bands around in the 90s were the last, great British bands,” claims Dom, before claiming their obvious nod to a previous era might not be the actual sum of Superfood’s parts. “When we release our album, they might see it’s not our main aim to be ‘90s,” he says, without going into too many details.
It’s clear that pretty much ever since that early London show, with plenty scattered in between now and then, Superfood have been working on their full-length. “That’s all I’m thinking about at the moment,” enthuses Carl. “Everyone’s like ‘ah, congratulations on getting signed’,” Dom echoes out. “But it’s going to be so real. I’m just going to get lots of hot chocolate. What else do you take to the studio?”
“Hot pants!” Carl shouts.
It’s only been a year, but their long-term plan is already ironed out, set in stone. An ultimate goal is to release calendars, following in the legacy of Cliff Richard (“The other day he was wearing a checkered shirt with a v-neck t-shirt under it. Impressive,” remarks Emily). Apart from extravagant merch, the band are intently focused on this debut. It’ll prove a lot of people wrong, if their initial declarations are anything to go by. One thing’s for certain: If anyone’s bringing back neon hoodies and giant mobile phones, it’s Superfood.
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