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| "XTC
meets King Crimson in a bar in Alabama and have a fight over a synthesiser"
- Hog Tied Monthly The wide-open flatlands of rural Norfolk (Alabama or East Anglia - it doesn't matter which), with them big ol' skies and good ol' boys in pick-up trucks, needs a new soundtrack for the 21st century. And Young Britons are here to provide it. Imagine a stage in a rowdy bar, chicken wire separating the band from the bottle-hurling Bud-drinking clientele, and on that stage are six workers. White-shirted and decently-trousered, they look like they could have just finished another dehumanizing shift at a call centre. But they are a band, and they are pumping out twisted rock'n'roll which jerks around like Franz Ferdinand, but blows harp like Dr Feelgood. Because it makes them feel better. Inside each of these Young Britons pumps the heart of a country boy, buttoned-down by modern anxiety and tension, and released for your entertainment via two guitars, explosive yet disciplined drums, layered vox and an underlying intensity which belies their apparent politeness. A night in the company of Young Britons will leave you boogied, thrashed, grooved and maybe just a little bit country. It's all part of the service, ma'am. Have a good day now, y'hear? |
