It's Just Bangers

I've written plenty of posts where I deep-dive into a band, exploring their history, their significance, and what they mean to me personally. This is not one of those posts.

But I do feel compelled to say something about The Vaccines. Since their debut in 2011, they've steadily released six albums, from ‘What Did You Expect from The Vaccines?’ to 2024’s ‘Pick-Up Full of Pink Carnations’.

They’ve never had the sweeping ambition of Arctic Monkeys, the genre-hopping curiosity of The 1975, or the sonic scale of Wolf Alice. They haven’t headlined festivals like Courteeners or Catfish & the Bottlemen. But what they have done is arguably just as impressive.

They’ve consistently delivered genuinely great songs—catchy, punchy indie gems that feel effortless but are anything but. Alongside The Wombats, there are few bands in the UK indie scene who can claim to have released such a steady stream of infectious anthems over more than a decade. From the instant energy of ‘If You Wanna’ to the dreamy melancholy of ‘Wetsuit’, the swaggering drive of ‘I Can’t Quit’ to the glossy hooks of ‘Headphones Baby’, their catalogue is packed with tracks that linger. They don’t just fill space on a playlist, they become staples. Songs you forget you know every word to until you’re yelling them in a pub or a packed field.

Their music feels tailor-made for indie discos, house parties, and sun-drenched festival afternoons. It’s the soundtrack to pint-spilling, arm-around-your-mates moments—carefree, a little chaotic, but joyful. Their hooks are instant, their lyrics walk the line between personal and universal, and they hit that sweet spot where indie meets pop without ever feeling forced. They don’t need to chase trends or tear up the blueprint—because they’ve mastered a sound that works. And while making a solid pop song might seem simple, consistently crafting ones that connect this easily is a rare skill, and The Vaccines have it in spades.

And crucially, it’s not just rinse and repeat. Each record subtly shifts the formula. ‘Out on the Street’ has a shimmering, synth-laced lightness that leans toward new wave; ‘Teenage Icon’ is brash, fast-paced, and pure adrenaline; ‘Back in Love City’ flirts with cinematic ambition and darker textures. There’s progression without pretension evidence that they’re evolving without ever losing sight of what makes them great. They're not reinventing themselves every album, but they’re always moving forward.

They may never headline Glastonbury or break into arena territory, but that’s never really felt like the point. What they offer is something just as valuable, a consistent presence in the British indie scene, the kind of band that soundtracks real life. Their songs feel like summer drives, teenage nights out, the comfort of something familiar yet exciting. They might not always dominate headlines, but they stick around—and sometimes, that longevity says more than any hype cycle ever could.

Call it predictable, maybebut it works. And even now, over a decade on, their latest album proves they’ve still got it. Tracks like ‘Sometimes I Swear’ and ‘Discount De Kooning (Last One Standing)’ are as strong as anything they've released. ‘Sometimes I Swear’ bursts with that signature Vaccines energy, urgent, melodic, and made to be shouted back from a festival crowd. ‘Discount De Kooning’ is more reflective but still carries that hook-laden charm they’ve always had, blending nostalgic lyrics with a sound that feels both fresh and familiar. These songs aren’t just retreads they’re proof that The Vaccines still know how to tap into the spirit of indie-pop without sounding tired or worn out. They've refined their craft rather than reinventing it, and there's something quietly brilliant about that.

As they cheekily asked back in 2011: ‘What Did You Expect from The Vaccines?’
In a way, that question still sums them up perfectly. They arrived fully formed, guitars blazing, melodies sharp, and they’ve stuck to what they do best ever since. No frills, no wild reinventions—just solid, smart, endlessly listenable indie-pop. And in a landscape where bands often burn out, sell out, or lose their spark chasing relevance, there’s something refreshing, almost rebellious, about a band that’s happy to just be The Vaccines.

What we’ve come to expect from them is consistency, charm, and the kind of songs that live long in the memory. And on that front, they’ve over-delivered. Album after album, they’ve carved out their own lane, not the biggest, not the flashiest, but reliably brilliant. They’re the band you turn to when you want something that feels good, sounds good, and doesn’t try too hard.
So no, we won’t be getting a jazz record anytime soon. But honestly? Who needs one, when The Vaccines are still this good at being themselves.