The first time I catch The Molotovs, the teenage siblings shake my hand outside a record shop on Berwick Street, Soho – the backdrop of Oasis’ second album cover. A truck is parked in front, waiting.
They lift the kit onto the truck ready for a guerrilla gig (an impromptu DIY concert – theirs tend to go viral). A crowd amasses, the band belts out a few high-octane songs, then the police show up. Every generation is watching, from schoolchildren to greying punks nostalgic for the days of The Jam.
Matt and Issey Cartlidge, aged 17 and 19, are electrifying Britain. They bring punk infused with a Britpop melody and a neo-Mod 1960s twist, delivered in red knee-high boots, blue eyeshadow and sharp suits. “No one’s really ‘made it’ in London’s rock scene,” says Matt. But judging by the feverish crowdsurfers at their shows, The Molotovs could be on the verge of it. Setting the stage on fire, the pair have given the scene something to be excited about.
During a Molotovs cover of “God Save The Queen”, the Sex Pistols drummer, Paul Cook, once climbed onto the stage to play the drums. The band has opened for Blondie, Iggy Pop and The Libertines without having released a studio album. That’s about to change: Wasted On Youth is out on January 30.
“Since you mentioned The Molotovs, they’ve been everywhere,” a friend tells me at a goth club night. She’s right. Issey was even supposed to DJ there alongside Boy George, but the sold-out Wasted On Youth UK tour got in the way.
From the outside, it seems like they burst onto the stage overnight. In reality, it’s been a slow burn from “putting in the hard graft,” says Matt. They have played over 600 gigs since they were 12 and 14, starting by busking and playing at weddings. Back then, Matt was a kid with spiky green hair who idolised Green Day.
Late-night bar Helen of Troy is the second place I run into the pair, this time by accident. “It’s our favourite place to go out,” says Issey. “Well, mine anyway. I like to dance, and he doesn’t really.” Gen Z has seen a Mod renaissance, finding its spiritual home at this bar. You might catch a glimpse of a sharply dressed crowd of youths smoking Vogues by their Lambretta scooters – and the chances are, The Molotovs will be there too. “Our mates run the events there,” they explain.
Rock is their sound, but the band is influenced by the Mod fashion and ethos. The original Mod subculture reinvented what it meant to be young, modern and British in the Swinging Sixties. Fuelled by amphetamines, they spun soul and R&B vinyl until dawn. If the siblings found themselves at the Battle of Brighton in 1964, they would be fighting the Rockers in creased trousers and loafers.
“I’m a massive fan of Mod culture,” says Matt. “I wouldn’t call it a Mod band, but maybe it’s adapted to be new – it’s short for modernism so it’s always changing.”
The next time Cold catches up with the band, they’ve hit the road. They call from Manchester, the third stop of 25 on their tour. Channel 4 had just interviewed them, marvelling at how the band “brought back gigging in real life”. But speaking to me, they insist it never went away. The rock scene is alive and kicking, which is why Issey started all-ages music collective Youth Explosion – for the “sheer love” of spotlighting the “wealth of talent in London”.
She adds: “Loads of people came out of lockdown, harnessed their craft and were hungry for community. So any night I wasn’t gigging, I was just out seeing gigs and taking inspiration, then kinda selfishly brought them to my events so I could watch them again.”
Issey describes her little brother as rebellious with a disregard for authority. He lights fires and she puts them out. I can see it – he puts his feet up on the table in the Premier Inn room and doesn’t hold back voicing his opinion.
The band has cultivated a passionate fanbase who show up to pogo. “The people who come to our gigs aren’t dickheads,” says Matt. “Everyone’s honest and real. Loads of jumping about, no wall of death rubbish.” They notice their fans refining their identity as they return to their gigs, curating their fashion, individualism and tribe.
As for working together creatively as siblings, there’s a rivalry there but with a ping-pong ricochet of energy. “It just means we’re more cut-throat with each other,” says Issey. “We can tell each other what we think, which probably saves a lot of grievances – we get it out straight away instead of harbouring resentment.”
Wasted On Youth out January 30. Pre-save it on Spotify here.
Dressed by Stuart Trevor. Issey Carts is wearing the Party Back Tuxedo and the ‘We Can Be Heroes’ Studded Leather Belt.
