little boots
Little
Victoria hasn’t always paved the future of dance-pop. Surprisingly,
she wasn’t one of the in-crowd growing up in Blackpool. She
started piano lessons aged-five, locked away in music rooms at
break-time, rushing home to fit more practice in before tea,
devouring modern music’s gene pool note-by-note, from classical to
jazz and onward.
Her teens would see Victoria coming out of her social shell, whilst
spreading her musical net as far as it would go. Punk bands followed
prog-bands, followed girl-bands, followed every weird and
wonderful piece of musical theatre you could ever imagine; she
soon discovered a voice that equalled her now virtuoso keyboard
skills. With weekend’s spent weaving the lasers of her hometown’s
euro-trance-powered dives, her musical voyage became anchored in
many waters.
Attending Leeds University at 18, wooed by early Noughties indie-
disco fever, she’d soon meet the two girls that would comprise her
first proper band - surly synthers Dead Disco. After a series of
lauded singles, storming tours, and a deal clinched with label 679,
Victoria decided she needed to pursue her cosmic fantasies and,
ultimately, the holy grail of pop. Little Boots was born.
Boots
The earnest hook-laden compositions she’d been working on in
secret were finally allowed out in the open. The synthesiser
addiction she’d obtained in her old band grew tenfold, quickly
assembling an arsenal of new toys, including her now trademark
light-box Yamaha Tenorion.
Soon she was documenting her bedroom sets and tinkering on
her laptop’s webcam, airing a mixture of her own new creations and
a unique selection of cover versions, from Wiley’s ‘Wearing My
Rolex’ to Haddaway’s ‘What Is Love?’ Little did she know that within
a few months her YouTube artist profile would be one of the UK’s
most subscribed.
Her songs had a life of their own. Barely had she started when
her almighty web buzz transcended cyber-spheres and began
proliferating throughout the industry. Contracts were signed with
Atlantic. Demos were passing hands at a staggering rate. Before long
her presence was requested by a host of the world’s most sought-
after studio hotshots.
‘Stuck On Repeat’ was the song that started it all a kind of
irrepressible anthem that cannot be contained. Transformed from
a forlorn piano-led anti-ballad into a seven-minute butterfly-inducing
the north magazine 7
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