Just as Redd Kross had Pink Kross, and when Thee Headcoats gazed into a curved mirror they saw Thee Headcoatees, The Horrors now have a band of feminine alter-egos. Actually, that’s a bit unfair on the independent women of Ipso Facto. While they may have spawned from the same garage-goth Junk Club scene as Farris Rotter’s wrecking crew, sporting similarly wan complexions and a penchant for gothic Victoriana, Ipso Facto possess a more refined pop nous than The Horrors: more Siouxsie and Bauhaus than The Cramps.
And if you were going to judge a band by their looks, Ipso Facto are destined to be worshipped. It’s like Emily The Strange and her haughty girlfriends formed a group. Only one single old, they’re still at the stage where they’re playing student indie clubs to the indifference of all but a handful of irony-dancers, but all that’s about to change. Just as soon as they finish their degrees.
When I catch up with Ipso Facto before their gig at Goldsmiths University—alma mater of the New Cross new raver—drummer Victoria is panicking about a cultural history exam the very next morning and bassist Sam is worried about being kicked off her drama course for failing to turn up to any classes for months. Sounds familiar, but they each bolster the rhythm section with a studied assurance that their professors might find commendable.
Unsurprisingly, Ipso Facto are steadily amassing a fan club of besotted indie boys. They are slightly embarrassed to report that 30 Seconds To Mars are fans but are more enthusiastic about the patronage of Arctic Monkey’s Alex Turner, even if they suspect ulterior motives when he keeps inviting them to tour America with him. Even if the Monkey’s motives aren’t honorable though, I’ll stick to my earlier assessment that Ipso Facto could be the sassiest London girl band since Elastica.