Love in the Key of Britpop

Love in the Key of Britpop sees Melbourne-based poet Emily Anderson playing a heightened version of herself: Emily, a Britpop fanatic who dreams of falling in love with a Damon Albarn-esque, shaggy-haired guitarist. In a Melbourne indie disco, she meets an English boy who shares her same passion for all things Britpop. Their whirlwind romance ends up with them being married due to visa requirements, but once the Britpop infatuation wanes, trouble for the couple arises.

This one-woman show consists entirely of spoken verse throughout. The beautifully written prose is laden with rhyming couplets, clever aphorisms, acid-tongue commentary and vivid imagery of the late noughties. Her spoken word performance is truly alluring and certainly, very lyrical. It becomes so easy to get drawn into Emily’s world, filled with drunken nights and romance on the dance floor. What stands out the most are the countless references to the best Britpop songs, bands and debates. In Emily’s world, Britpop reigns supreme – the Blur vs. Oasis battle, every teenage girls crush on Jarvis Cocker and delicious gossip about Brett Anderson is still very much alive. With such a deep-rooted nostalgia for the past, entering Emily’s Britpop reality becomes effortless: see our friends, see the sights, feel alright.

The light-hearted, carefree nature of Emily’s verse eventually fades into a sombre tone when the harsh reality of heartbreak sinks in. With her continued attempts to captivate the audience, this is when Andersen struggles the most. For an hour-long performance, the pace considerably slows down and the narrative ventures close to being tiresome. Fortunately, Andersen performs with a raw sense of earnestness and her character still holds some likeability.

For a show where music plays such a fundamental role, one might expect the show to actually play some music.  It seems such a pity that Love in the Key of Britpop only employs minimal backing tracks. It is highly likely that technicalities, like APRA licensing fees, restrict Andersen from performing songs, or even gleefully dancing to a track or two. Perhaps she believes that playing songs would hinder her own spoken verse, but surely, the inclusion of such songs would certainly enhance, rather than confine, her vibrant Britpop dreamworld.

On a final note, Tuxedo Cat as a Fringe venue offers an adequately intimate space, but the walls are paper-thin and the performance next-door could often be overheard. Andersen rightfully deserves the appropriate venue to perform her show without any unfortunate disturbances.

Love in the Key of Britpop offers a refuge for girls who are boys who like boys to be girls who still wish to party in a Disco 2000. Most importantly, Andersen’s brilliant writing talent shines throughout as her words take centre-stage. Andersen uses cheeky Britpop references to paint a relatable, colourful character who the audience will be barracking for till the very end.