Like the sweet clutter of a million tiny hammers on the face of an oiled tin sheet, Bjork’s diaphanous milky trip and base dystopia reminds one of the hardest whispers of the early Bristol massive, heard at six am on the underground from the leaky ear bellows of some jacked up urban crunk kid, still Read more

A mike, discarded and abandoned, a fish hook swinging in the half light, the subtle gloam of Debrah Harry’s cigarette. The band have scattered like the ashes of the ghoul of Nancy Vicious, she is alone. One hand rubs along a furred belly, whilst one arthritic claw works the controls on a a worn VHS Read more

A vast metropolis under the surface of the earth, teeming and rustling, heaving and bellowing, and from it steps a man, a hero. The crack pipe clicks against the lighter in your shaking grip, comedown a rabid waking dog that paws the cat flap of your conscious mind; afternoon the harsh bleak vision of desperate Read more

Trying to describe this album, it’s syncopated rhythms, it’s profound melodic flow, is the critical equivalent of building some grand steam punk machine, some quaint but frightening Victoriana clockwork beast, all chromed silver and India rubber, frightening yes but quite lovely in its decadence; to shrink down to dim nano scale in a futile attempt Read more

Suppose I should take this seriously. tell you a story and make the album live in your ears before you have a chance to run out and buy it like a pack of lemmings. I should describe each member of the band and perhaps pick on the front man/woman and tell you their story, making Read more

Will you lot fuck off, you’ve knocked over my bins again. The Kaisar Chiefs are like being back in collage halls and sharing a flat with some cunt. He nicks your food, messes the place up, never does the washing up, and comes in at 4 in the morning with a load of mates, all Read more