Austerity Dogs

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You can argue that the one-dimensional approach to the production with the lack of any dynamics after 25 minutes could be the reason for these tracks falling flat, but they are certainly not as catchy and powerful as the earlier tracks. Luottoesimerkki: 1 300 € luottorajalla ja 12 kk:n takaisinmaksuajalla kk-erä on 124,06 € ja kuluttajasuojalain mukainen todellinen vuosikorko 29,08 %. Months ago, back when I first started seeing this album on this site, I had it judged by its cover, title and band name. It's all absolutely brilliant, and you'll not hear a more unsettling piece of music than 'Donkey''s dystopian half-hop all year. But where Seaton had that individualistic nihilism that so inspired Arctic Monkeys, Sleaford Mods know that you rise as a class or you don't rise at all: "movin' up in the world doesn't mean using the lift, mate/What floor do you want?

Through heavy touring and a sound that exercises a visceral, sociopolitical stream of consciousness, they are forcibly breaking down the gates of apathy that guard the commercial mainstream. Then, on 'My Jampandy', he tells how "cuts make people stink", whilst 'Fizzy' speaks of "work[ing] my dreams off for two bits of ravioli and a warm bottle of Smirnoff under a manager that doesn't have a clue. There's no special claims made for the city; no grandly romantic nonsense about its worth vis-a-vis other UK cities. They're also a big part of the burgeoning Leeds heavy rock scene alongside Pulled Apart By Horses, Kong, Hawk Eyes and Gentlemen's Pistols, it looks like it's about to break.

Formed 2 years ago out of the ashes of Leeds garage rockers The Bacchae, the band were seduced by the brutal and hypnotic lure of the riff, to emerge translucent skinned and bleary eyed from their cocoon as the ferocious kick-ass heavy rock outfit that is Black Moth. They're the kind of band that could easily have a cameo spot in a Shane Meadows film, say down a seedy backstreet Working Men's Club. Due to inventory and accounting purposes, we do not exchange items received for different items than originally purchased. It all sounds mundane and coarse, but that is the charm and also it serves a colossal purpose; it encapsulates the imagery and environment of working class Britain and fuses with Williamson’s impassioned, irate vocal rants about Boris Johnson and Gordon Brown being ‘wankers’ on the track ‘My Jampandy’. It jumps out of the speakers and squares right up to your face, an eyebrow cocked, an acute feral intelligence in tow.

This is probably punk's last gasp before the UK music scene and its chancy small town think-they-ares finally disappear up their collective bumhole. Steadily burning a whole in the underground, Sleaford Mods' wonky brand of vitriolic domestic audio abuse is so unique that they can sound like John Cooper Clark, Billy Childish, Wire, any post-punk band worth their salt, and still be like nothing else on the planet. As with all NHS releases the album package will be something very special, with some very special cover art.

With the DJ in mind, optimum sonic integrity has been maintained by removing the CD version's beatless opening and closing tracks, and the remaining 11 tunes have been re-sequenced and re-cut to allow those 4 that have until now not appeared on vinyl to be presented in newly-mastered 12-inch-standard audio across the first 2 sides ('Wounder', 'U Hurt Me', 'Spaceape' and 'Prayer').This will make said orifices bleed and hurt, like wiping them with folded grease proof paper and not being able to flush. And if you think "Mod" is just about dressing up like "page 7 Weller" and boring on about Small Faces all day and night on yer reissue 60s Vespa, then don't bother mate. Sleaford Mods are untouchable, what I mean is there is no fucking, any fucking body, who comes any fucking where near to them. I first heard the song "Donkey" around New Year when the album was made "Album of the year" at Norman Records and thought is was crap.