Apparently, George Pringle is the new Kate Nash. So in six months time, if everything goes to plan, we should be hailing Ms. Someone-or-other as the new George Pringle. And, if history repeats, between now and June this fine arts student has fame, fortune and the prospect of bumping hips with a Crib to look forward to.
Some of which may appeal and some of which may not. But aside from the surface similarities – the accent, the Mac-assisted DIY musical upbringing, the bare-naked, diary-page honesty which resonates throughout – they really have very little in common.
You see, while Nash is a singer, Pringle is a diseuse – or to those who aren’t Stephen Fry, a female professional performer of monologues. Nash is twee, while Pringle is dark and downbeat. Kind of like a Godspeed You Black Emperor in ballet pumps.
Seriously, you try and find someone else who can make the fact that they can’t win at Street Fighter II so world-shatteringly apocalyptic, and then go and see if you think the fact that Kate Nash has a family and drinks cups of tea still has a major bearing on your life.
Which may well be the most major distinction. While both may offer you the chance to have unfettered access to the inner confines of their souls, only Pringle makes you actually want to root around and find out more about what’s going on inside that head.
Understandably, as she creeps on stage for what can only have been the half-dozenth time, she looks slightly weary, slightly caught in the headlights. “Hi, I’m George Pringle. Like the crisp.” she adds, self-deprecatingly. But for each passage recounted in cut-glass tones over electronic glitches and squelches, she grows in confidence.
Untill the point where she’s cocky enough to start shining a torch into the eyes of the crowd. As a metaphor, we get it. Pringle is a breath of fresh air. A beacon of originality in a sea of mundanity, despite the fact that ultimately, she’s just a girl doing karaoke over an iPod.
She ends with LCD I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down, with her foot up on the monitors like some kind of rock star. Maybe she is. Maybe she isn’t. Maybe she’s the new Kate Nash. Although, in all likelihood, she isn’t. Or maybe she’s a 22 year old reciting poetry over GarageBand constructs, who could just be one of the most original and exciting performers we’ve seen all year.