MONEY: “Art is a trick. A good trick, but it's a trick.”

MONEY is the word on everyone’s lips this changeable August. Their debut LP, Shadow Of Heaven, has so far been met with critical applause – indeed, our own Sam Briggs was impressed: “Agree with them, or write them off as abstracted lunatics, The Shadow of Heaven is an incredible, persuasive push for thoughtful guitar music, in an often vacuous mainstream.”

Emanating from Manchester, the quintet mine ideologies linked to the city, which tends to amount to a grand dissatisfaction with life, tumultuous romantic exploits and squelching about in the nihilist doldrums. There’s an obvious resemblance to Joy Division to be heard in the band’s stark post-punk paeans; warped guitars hurtle in knots around cracked-ice beats and keys that are more akin to the death rattle of a martyr than music. There are whispers of their contemporary Nadine Shah, and more distantly, the legendary Nick Cave. MONEY’s sound is a schism in your brain, both chest-achingly poignant and a vital bout of post-pop. It has the potential to be emotionally devastating multiple times and stick to your meninges like PVA. Don’t be surprised if your world turns greyscale after being immersed in their first full-length outing.

“Simon Cowell sexually assaulted me when I was a child. He planted in me his musical seed,” says Jamie Lee, the band’s enigmatic frontman, dryly, when asked about his musical beginnings. It is of course, blatantly untrue. He continues: “The answer to almost all questions is very simple – Geography. Manchester is made up of one street that curls itself around and around and backwards and all over to form the city like a long mangled piece of spaghetti. The end meets up with the beginning and so once you’re in, you can’t get out. There are long ladders that reach over the houses so that you can climb onto adjacent streets – otherwise you would have to walk the whole city just to get over the road. Normally after a year of living here you know everyone.”

From the outside, the foursome are enveloped in a shroud of mystery, but Lee isn’t so sure. “I feel like we have always been very self-explanatory. The cover of our first single was a picture of me naked – not hiding anything. I don’t know why people would associate a sense of mystery with the band. We made videos without us in them because why put yourselves in when you can have Alexander Trocchi, Klaus Kinski and Stanley Spencer? I suppose the reason people think we are mysterious is because we have not operated like all the other bands the UK has come to expect – touring too much, asking people to do things with them, asking for press – begging for acceptance basically. And they can’t understand why we wouldn’t do that.” Despite his assumption of the group’s transparency, Lee does admit to understanding the claims of mystique. “With any interesting or complex person there is always an infuriating element of mystery or secrecy to them no matter how well you may claim to know them. They are the ones who cannot be possessed or pleased by solely one thing or one person.”

A lot of the outfit’s press has centred around the neo-icon Lee, who features butt-nekkid on the cover of MONEY’s debut single. He’s fond of making grandiose statements and delivering heart-thumping sermons about the sanctity of the sonic arts. He’s inspired by “Ideas,” and has spouted his bleak philosophy via poets Kozlov and Rilke (though he doesn’t think they’re apt anymore). He’s passionate, oozes bruised determination and is affable in the same way as Kele Okereke – for example, when quizzed on his musical heroes, he replied wryly: “I don’t have one. I like lots of music but I don’t necessarily respond to icons. They are too much in the public eye to be admired. I like people who are unable or refuse to fit in to those.” How about his favourite poem? “I don’t have a favourite. There are obviously pieces of writing that I like but I don’t have a favourite poem – I would be suspicious of anyone who did. Like someone who has a favourite anything.” Perhaps not the most genial replies, but there’s an honesty and an ardent belief in his words – he’s unveiling an array of mantras, some rehearsed, some realised in the moment, and will fervently stick to them. There’s a messianic quality to his speeches.

Obviously, Lee isn’t the only driving force behind the band. The band themselves aren’t the only driving force. Manchester itself has been an unofficial ‘fifth member’, and a source of countless inspiration. “It is magical, surreal, violent, honest, extreme, changing and obsessive. It’s paradise. Everyone in Manchester is symbolically dead. Advantages – its made out of the same material as sexy, ravenous dreams. Disadvantages – everyone’s shagged your new girlfriend.” Living in an area with that many adjectives attached imbues the local scene with a certain essence. True to that statement, Manchester mints a host of ability, as it always has. “It is overflowing with talent that most people will never hear of. Even within the city. The city from the outside will therefore continue to be misrepresented and misunderstood but this is what happens with everything in mainstream avenues of ‘the arts’ and media.” The city itself is experiencing a resurgence of musical relevance it hasn’t seen since the ’80s/’90s, and Lee generously offers some recommendations of worthwhile acts. “Try Temple Songs, Irma Vep, Gnod. Queer’d Science and the African Kora player who plays in Piccadilly Gardens with the drug dealers who whistle like birds at you to get your attention as you pass.”

As mentioned before, MONEY’s debut record is a lauded collection of songs. Lee explains the formation of the thematic elements of the LP, from its humble beginnings, to a concept album about dealing with a lack of meaning in life. Consider it an existentialist OST. “We didn’t set out for The Shadow Of Heaven to be a concept album, although there were a couple of cohesive and major themes from the beginning. However, as we put the songs side by side the album started to take on the form of a Hell-descent – one into the modern world – where man has been told that he is both God, whilst at the same time being told that he is nothing. It is his challenge to find meaning in this void, to discover its beauty, to discern Heaven from Hell when they are found lying at every point simultaneously. To make meaning out of this impossible loneliness and yet, still retain his capacity for human dreams.” It’s deep stuff, and it’s not just plastic noise you can allow to wash over you. The lyrics and tone grip you by the throat and force you to comprehend. Lee’s ponderings on the definition of art incite frantic epiphanies. “We are constantly at a loss – art is essentially about trying to savour time by weighing it down a little, stretching it out, letting you live a bit more – for a few moments in eternity – with a song or a piece of writing you are able to die a little less every moment.”

Following swiftly on from the societal musing, we delve into Lee’s mind, rummaging for his opinions on morality. So, what does he think? Are humans genetically disposed to being good or evil? “To be honest I don’t know what those words mean – they are too entwined with each other. Though for some reason I can imagine it being more possible to be wholly evil than wholly good – there is a negative reason for both being the case. I would be more interested in the question ‘how does a person come to do evil or good things’ and ‘how the world then is able to label them either way according to preconceived or reductive ideas of what those two things mean to us’.” Ah, that trusty Jamie Lee simplicity rears its head once more. “Out in the open – it is fairly simple to be defined as a good person. Whereas I imagine with evil there is a quality of individuality attached to it – that may take intelligence and even imagination to achieve a sort of brilliance at it. Religion associates a supreme intelligence with a kind of evil cunning – an ability to trick or deceive. Art is a trick. A good trick, but it’s a trick.”

So what are Lee’s words of wisdom for the youth of today? What impassioned maxim can he bequeath to our future generations? Hope? Reassurance? No. According to Lee, the most important thing to teach children is: “You’re going to die. Soon.” Lovely stuff. But at least he’s excited about the summer, telling us he’s looking forward to “Getting beaten up and smelling those wonderful male smells in urinals all over the place.”

MONEY may not have the simplest answers, but they frequently have intriguing points. Moreover, they put those points to stunning music, and deliver a knockout blow of infectious, morose and visceral post-pop. There’s not going to be an easy future ahead for humanity, and MONEY are all too aware of that, but instead of hiding away in a corner, they’re vocalising their woes and trying to make a little more of life.

MONEY’s debut album The Shadow of Heaven will be released through Bella Union on 26 August.