Decided Knowledge by Dutch Uncles: A Witty Spin on Indie Rock Brilliance
Alright, buckle up, because we’re diving into Decided Knowledge, the 2015 brainchild of Dutch Uncles—a band that somehow manages to sound like they’ve been marinating in both a chemistry lab and a strobe-lit dance floor. Released under Memphis Industries (shoutout to them for consistently backing quirky brilliance), this UK indie rock gem is one of those albums you don’t just listen to—you experience it. And then maybe question your life choices afterward. In a good way.
Let’s cut to the chase. The title track, “Decided Knowledge,” hits you with all the subtlety of someone spilling coffee on your white shirt—annoying at first but oddly endearing once you get over the shock. It’s got these spiraling synths that feel like they’re trying to hypnotize you while drummer Andy Proudfoot lays down beats so tight they could double as therapy sessions. Frontman Duncan Wallis delivers lyrics that are equal parts cryptic poetry and existential musings, leaving you Googling phrases halfway through. Is he singing about love? Modern alienation? His Wi-Fi password? Who knows. But damn, it sticks.
Then there’s “Be Right Back,” which might as well come with a warning label: “May cause involuntary head-bobbing.” This track is pure dopamine wrapped in angular guitars and jittery rhythms. If I had to describe it in three words, I’d say: nerdy, punchy, addictive. That bassline slinks around like it owns the place, and Wallis’ falsetto vocals add just enough weirdness to keep things interesting. You know when you hear a song and think, “I should hate this, but I can’t stop replaying it”? Yeah, that’s this one.
What makes Decided Knowledge stand out isn’t just its sonic quirks—it’s how unapologetically itself it is. There’s no attempt to pander or fit neatly into any trend. Instead, Dutch Uncles seem content to let their freak flag fly high, crafting an album that feels more like an art project than a commercial release. Sure, some tracks take a few listens to click, but isn’t that what growing older (and slightly wiser) is all about?
So here’s the kicker: listening to this album feels like walking into a room where everyone speaks a language you barely understand—but instead of feeling left out, you find yourself nodding along anyway. Maybe it’s the infectious energy. Or maybe it’s just proof that great music doesn’t need to explain itself to earn your respect.
Final thought? If Decided Knowledge were a person, it’d probably be that eccentric uncle who shows up at family gatherings wearing mismatched socks and quoting obscure philosophers—but somehow charms everyone within ten minutes. And honestly, who wouldn’t want to hang out with that guy?
