The Island label in the late sixties and early seventies remains a fertile hunting ground for serious vinyl collectors from this era. One reason for that is that the label comes across like it was run by actual music lovers that extended to great attention and artistry being put into even the sampler compilation LPs like ‘El Pea’ and ‘You Can All Join In’. The other being the impressive range of eclectic, era defining styles featured on the label including folk-rock, prog, reggae, pop and hard rock. This is firmly in the progressive vein and an impressive debut by a band put together by ex-Yardbirds Keith Relf & Jim McCarty; they gained a solid reputation for their fusion of rock with classical flourishes that can be witnessed below on the stand out track ‘Island’
It might have something to do with their ban from playing in America that led The Kinks to focus on such British sounding and referencing music in the mid sixties, but it equally could be this attention to detail and characters of his native land was the natural writing mode for Ray Davies. Either way he, perhaps better than any other pop song writer, captured something of the seasonal darkness and light of UK living, he was almost Lowry-esque in his bleak yet beautiful depiction of working class streets and social groups. This is one such example, a classic slice of exactly that bittersweet melancholy and a splash of music hall whimsy; this did not appear on a Kinks album in 1966 so if you want to taste the sound of the original vinyl issue it is this 45 single that you need to find. There is one sitting in the Fruit Tree Records online store right now so dig in and dig out… https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile
Here is some welcome new music, accompanied by a UK tour I should add, from a US cult songwriter whose superb DIY aesthetic, whose biting satirical lyrics and observational dexterity, not to mention his effortless facility to grab an earworm melody or hook, has seen his catalogue grow to near iconic status. He is pitched somewhere between the English whimsy of a Robyn Hitchcock or the charming outsider wackiness of a Jonathan Richman without being too much like either. He comes packed with visual stimuli as well thanks to a prolific dedication to creating comic book art. Jeffrey is a one off basically, criminally under-rated to this day but to paraphrase the mans own ‘Cult Boyfriend’, even if he never fully makes it out of the club gig circuit you can guarantee there will always be some people in the know who are really going to love his work. I count myself among them…
Oracle Sisters – Riverside
I was previously writing about this trio on this site in 2023 when their debut record caught my attention thanks to its subtle reliance on quiet melodicism and gentle contours of lift and abandon to grab the listener, rather than more blunt attention grabbing techniques. Later that year I would catch them at the End Of The Road festival and was rather blown away with how their delicate charms could still command the attention of a sizeable crowd and convincingly occupy a large main stage. They are back in 2025 with a new album called ‘Divinations’ and continue to display their deceptively modest musical loveliness here, down on the riverside…
Joy Crookes – I Know You’d Kill
I first encountered Joy Crookes by accident back in 2016 when she was supporting Benedict Benjamin in a small London club venue aged just seventeen. I remember writing back then about how much promise she showed as well as noting an impressively eclectic blend of influences from soul to jazz to hip-hop, all collected up in a joyous melting pot all of her own making. Today Joy continues tapping into a retro soul groove and summoning the vocal style, a little of the attitude too, of Amy Winehouse which is wonderful to hear nine years down the line. How great, not to mention important, it is that there is still space and time for an artist like this to grow and find their own voice. Joy Crookes is really starting to deliver now…
Lael Neale – Tell Me How To Be Here
I have written about the new Lael Neale album over at KLOF Mag a couple of days ago and correctly, I believe, identified it as the must-hear new release of the week. On the record, ‘Altogether Stranger’, this track works as the emotional centrepiece in a dizzying and yet refreshingly concise collection of songs that meditate on various states of belonging and isolation. As before with Lael, the sound is a heady mix of Velvets drone and minimalism with a definite retro pop sheen and an all encompassing shimmer. See exactly what I mean with this…
Blake, Butler & Grant – Bring An End
This new trio of old hands are Bernard Butler, a celebrated guitarist with numerous credits to his name but most notably Suede and McCalmont & Butler in the nineties; Scottish songwriter James Butler, best known for fronting the band Love & Money in the mid-eighties to the nineties and Norman Blake who is, of course, best known as the ever-present front man of Teenage Fanclub. I caught the trio last summer when playing an ear catching set at the Cambridge Folk Festival and noted then how well their newly composed material sat alongside well known hits and covers. This track demonstrates exactly what I was talking about and can be heard on the new self titled album, already released on 355 Recordings…
Alabaster DePlume – Invincibility
Taken from the new ‘A Blade Because A Blade Is Whole’ album and as a complete work it is quite a different beast to what one might expect from a jazz saxophonist. It is far more geared towards the poetic composer and even activism strain of DePlume’s work as the entire album plays like something of a healing mechanism for the troubled modern times we live in. Not quite a protest album, certainly not a political statement but a meditation on the feeling of, well, everything not being quite right with the world and as the title itself ponders, if something is not whole it cannot fulfil its intended purpose. Oh and I probably should warn you, as wonderful as the video below is, it is definitely a bit of a heartbreaker so tread carefully…
Released in 1996 as a limited edition single, one that had not appeared on the Super Furry Animals debut album from earlier that year but a song that, for years thereafter, would instigate mass singing and hysteria at their gigs. The main sample in the track is taken from Steely Dan’s ‘Show Biz Kids’ and it became a cult hit at the time thanks to its ineligibility for any mainstream radio play and controversy inviting claim to feature the F word fifty times. It still conjures thoughts of a time when there were numerous Britpop adjacent bands in the UK charts making great records, uninhibited and full of creative flare, the Super Furry Animals shone brightest in that regard a lot longer than many of their contemporaries, a great band.
As a new feature for this website and as a companion piece for the half a dozen Fresh Juice offerings of new music, Old Fruit is a selection of half a dozen older music clips presented here because they either have some current relevance, they are newly discovered archive material or simply that I just like them a lot and want to share. As is the case with this super high quality picture of Genesis in 1974, performing their epic ‘Musical Box’ number for the TV cameras, capturing Peter Gabriel in a moment where his theatrical stage craft was perfectly pitched. It is fair to say that by the end of 1974 his ideas were over stretching a little and fellow band members would complain that costumes and the focus on visuals were over shadowing the music. But equally, they probably would not have won the attention they enjoyed in the early part of the seventies without Gabriel’s weird aura but whatever, it retains a curious eccentric English charm on show to full effect here…
Crowded House – Distant Sun
There have been many songwriters who benefit from comparisons to either Lennon or McCartney but its the ones that get favourable mentions in the same breath as Lennon & McCartney that are the ones to pay special attention to. Neil Finn of Crowded House is one such performer and he has written many hit singles, some like ‘Weather With You’ or ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ shine brightly but ‘Distant Sun’ is truly one of the best even though it slides a little under the radar by comparison. The way it pulls in a spoonful of McCartney melodicism and sprinkles a pinch of Lennon angst is really quite powerful…
The Roches – Mr. Sellack
This three sibling combo were, especially during the eighties, one of the most vital acts on the folk scene. They released albums, some of which (including the 1979 self-titled release that this song is taken from) were produced by Robert Fripp, that would almost unanimously get healthy critical receptions but underwhelm in terms of sales. A travesty really for, as this clip so vividly demonstrates, they were capable of hitting spectacular three part ranges vocally and their songs had a natural lyrical flare, wit and bite. The Roches were a folkin’ phenomenon alright…
Question Mark & The Mysterians – 96 Tears
Question Mark was the stage alter ego of Rudy Martinez and his band, also named after a 1957 Japanese science fiction film of the same name, scored a US number one hit with this their debut single released on the Pa-Go-Go Records label. It has equally been identified as an early influence on the punk scene as much as it has been associated with the Nuggets driven garage rock scene that, like Northern Soul, would start to catch an identity for its genre only when compilations started putting together similarly styled collections under the ‘garage’ banner in the seventies and beyond. Unlike many records that would become garage and psych collectables, this one was actually pretty popular and well known so it has remained an outlier, never appearing on the ‘Nuggets’ series for example. Whatever, it’s a garage psych classic from 1966 so just dig it!
Link Wray – Rumble
Sadly there is no actual 1958 footage that I can find of Link Wray performing his instrumental classic the year it came out, but this 1974 live clip is still pretty amazing. The thunderous crash that introduced this number originally lays to waste any claim sixties acts like The Kinks or Led Zeppelin can make to having invented Heavy Metal, it was already there in the aggressive playing and amped up grungy sound of Link Wray. And look at this film, witness that gum chewing strut, he knew it too!
Roberta Flack – Compared To What
This was the first track on the debut album by Roberta Flack and talk about a statement of intent. Obviously she would end her career with a pair of classic songs that she’ll forever be associated with but this one, for me, best brings the essence of Roberta. It is a sensational fusion of jazz, funk and soul and where the lyric talks of making it real, well look no further, it is all in this piece of film from 1970. Eyes shut, head swaying, totally lost and transported in the performance and the song, it does not get any more real than this!
Are tribute bands somehow still beyond the pale? Are they still something of a guilty pleasure, that is if you pay any attention to them at all? Still an area of the live music scene that appears to not attract any critical word space or analysis and is maybe even a bit of a joke in some cases. Are an Oasis tribute band nothing more than a vehicle for lads in casual Adidas sports wear and limited music ability to stand on stage and shi-iiii-ne a little? Is a Robbie Williams tribute act performing to a backing tape nothing more than an attention seeking karaoke dude with an ego that requires a bit too much kneading? Does the world really need a Coldplay tribute band when the real thing are perfectly capable of occupying enough space on the circuit with plentiful coma-inducing corporate arena textbook shenanigans to keep the estate agents and mobile phone franchisee shop owners topped up with their annual musical night out? These attractions have their place I guess and as long as I am nowhere near them, no problem. Personally, the world of tribute acts has given me nothing more than a bit of light relief when the Counterfeit Stones came on at Guilford ’98 Festival and an occasional bit of Rock ‘n’ Roll frugging fun when chancing upon a decent fifties style rockabilly act or such like.
Which brings me to the reason I have been thinking about this lately, namely there now being a lot of music that I love with zero chance of ever hearing performed live unless it is in the hands of a tribute act or covers band. As a sixteen-year-old Peter Gabriel fan in 1988 I had dug into his solo work to the point of completeness when one day I found a compilation album called ‘Rock Theatre’ by Genesis.” It featured a front cover image of Peter in a baffling globule decorated green monster outfit trying to position a microphone in the general vicinity of his mouth on some unidentified early seventies concert stage and looked appealing enough for my next avenue of exploration, the Peter Gabriel fronted 1969 – 1975 era of Genesis, to begin. Ultimately this particular chamber of doors would lead me to many other progressive landmarks and collectable obscurities from the era, but it has always been those early Genesis albums, probably because of the heightened and impressionable time of life that they arrived, which would endure and remain lifelong favorites with me.
So last month I noticed in the local Cambridge listings that the highly regarded, long established, Genesis tribute act The Musical Box were playing the Corn Exchange with a recreation of the 1972-73 how that resulted in the 1973 album ‘Genesis Live’ and I found myself itching to go. I still, weirdly, felt the need to play it down amongst people I know and did not invite anyone to attend the gig with me, not that I knew anybody who would have wanted to. But I have never heard any of this material played live, solo Gabriel will not go anywhere near it, and my relationship with these songs / concept pieces is now over thirty-five years old. Not only that but the visual aspect was a drawer too, by the time of this tour Genesis, with four of the five band members remaining seated at all times, had let Peter unleash his theatrical leanings so the show had strong visual and lighting elements. Modest by today’s standards admittedly but I really wanted to, if only just once, get a taste for what the early Genesis live experience must have been like. And The Musical Box did deliver, I had a wonderful night near the back of a large venue that was, impressively, close to sold out.
My hope before the show was for it to be primarily about the music with little cheapening the experience by scripted repro ad-libs but my hopes were dashed on that front. There is a moment on that live album where Mike Rutherford, pre-song, makes a couple of noises on his bass pedal and Gabriel quick-wittedly got a laugh with a comment about it being a bass pedal solo. The Musical Box recreate that moment too, which I kind of didn’t need them to do although I can accept they are merely pursuing as exacting a portrayal of those original gigs as possible. I do think the long-term answer is to move away from the photocopying aspect of these shows and focus more on honestly interpreting the material for a present-day audience. When Cat Power played the Albert Hall reciting the same set-list as Bob Dylan had played there in 1966, one audience member tried to help out with the famous “Judas” heckle, which just inspired a weary groan from the performer. Still, the best sequence of the Musical Box gig might have been after the completion of the original concert recital, which they acknowledged is a little short, continuing to play a sequence of 1971-72 deep cuts which, freed a little from the re-enactment shackles, made for a wonderful section of thoughtfully played and sung progressive music. Since I went to the show I have mentioned it to others who, gradually, have come out of the woodwork and confessed to also enjoying a tribute act or two, the Australian Pink Floyd being one that seems to get frequently mentioned so who knows, maybe that will be on my list a little further down the line? First up though, one of my best loved folk singers of today is touring a show playing the music of Sandy Denny which arrives in Cambridge in June for which, especially given the positive notices that I have heard so far, I will say out loud, my appetite is whetted and I truly cannot wait.
By the time Dory Previn emerged as a devastatingly raw and emotive singer-songwriter of a singular grain in the seventies she was already in her mid-forties with a trunk load of life trauma spinning in her head. She had cut her musical teeth in the sixties alongside then husband Andre Previn writing lyrics on motion picture soundtrack pieces (for which they received several Academy Award nominations) but it was after their split that the solo acoustic style in vogue at the time became her forte. Her music was raw and real, perhaps a little too much for some, which may account for her criminal lack of commercial recognition before or since, as she dealt not just with the fall out of her Andre split but also childhood abuse and her own mental health. That her recipe was always topped off with a glittering Hollywood, musical-like melodic flare only serves to make her music all the more appealing and guarantees that Dory is forever a wonderful musical surprise in waiting for the uninitiated. This album is a 1977 compilation of highlights from her solo releases and a very good condition vinyl pressing on UAR records is available right now at our shop https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile
Despite there not being a large amount of Dory Previn film clips available, I have found two filmed performances of a brace of songs that appear on One A.M. Phonecalls here:
Jazz trumpeter Lee Morgan’s 1964 album on the Blue Note has remained one of the foundation LP’s in the classic Jazz labels catalogue. Even at the time, the title track achieved some unexpected crossover success in the pop and R&B charts thanks to the relentless hard shuffle of the rhythm and the hook heavy lead trumpet lines. This was heading in the direction of funk for sure, so much so that a few years later the James Brown band would often lift directly from the main riff that remains the backbone of the tune. Of course Blue Note during this golden period had many examples of groove based pieces ensuring these records were a fertile hunting ground when, decades later, the Acid Jazz scene were crate digging for samples. Lee Morgan himself would make several other albums in the sixties as a bandleader, top of the pile for me being ‘Search For The New Land’ as well as contributing often the most tasty parts on records as part of John Coltrane’s or Wayne Shorter’s bands and not forgetting his pivotal parts in Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. Lee’s untimely death in 1972, shot in a club he was performing at by his live-in girlfriend, robbed the Jazz scene of a talent whose work has not aged one bit; anyone taking a dive into the Blue Note label or hard jazz and bebop in general can do a lot worse than start with the work of Lee Morgan. A lovely 2020 Audiophile Blue Note pressing of The Sidewinder album is currently available in our shop https://www.discogs.com/seller/Fruit_Tree_Records/profile
The two clips I have are firstly audio of The Sidewinder track itself and secondly, some quality film footage of Morgan in action in the mid sixties as part of Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers…
To mark the regular return of this sites Fresh Juice feature, I would ideally have liked to follow the tradition of sourcing the best video clips to represent the song choice but for this, I also wanted to return with something that has a bit of punch and this certainly has that. Echolalia are Spencer Cullum, Andrew Combs, Dominic Billet, Jason Lehning, Eli Beaird, Jordan Lehning and Juan Solorzano and their debut album is a thing of pastoral beauty and strong songwriting, with each of the four writers among the collective getting an equal portion of the album track space. But tucked away right at the close of the record is this hilariously sparky hidden treasure. Quite out of sync with the remainder of the album, this is reminiscent of a mockney Britpop classic, all boozed up geezerish chat that brilliantly captures the alcoholic fog of an afternoon in a spit and sawdust old English ale house. Maybe its best explained by Spencer Cullum, who for all his current residential status as a Tennessean was actually born and raised in Romford. If that is his voice to the forefront of this track, that kind of explains it all really. Let’s get emotional.l.l.l Terry!!!!
Pulp – Spike Island
Talking of Britpop, this a welcome return from some veterans of the era. Pulp have reformed and are set to release their first new album in 24 years and there is something that feels rather good about this one. It could be that the vast majority of nineties indie band resurrections rarely bring anything to enhance their legacy, more often merely adding fuel to the detractors argument that Britpop was a musically backward looking, conservative misstep. But for all that I can see their point, that is not how I remember it thirty years ago. I was rather swept up in the waves of optimism splashing in from the likes of Blur, Supergrass and the Charlatans. That unfiltered ambition Oasis spouted I got right behind, I wanted all that bland generic boyband shit shoulder barged out of the pop charts by acts writing great pop songs. I remember a time when the radio was reliably peppered with a drip feed of memorable tunes; I am inclined to think Pulp have revived just that on ‘Spike Island’. This is a song on regular radio rotation right now and every play grows on me a little more, just as a killer pop song should. It makes me feel Britpop is ripe for a reassessment, if people think its legacy is merely laying a platform for a band like Coldplay to exist then think again, the industry built the Coldplay monstrosity, Britpop’s incubation was from a far more musically inspired place as we are brilliantly reminded here with Pulp
The Pale White – Final Exit
The Pale White are set to release their ‘The Big Sad’ album, a record that the band themselves say looked like it might not come out for a time. We should be gratified they did find a way to set sail on this ship. Their sound may be out of step with that of a new rock band in 2025 but the feeling of being outsiders they project, something which is heavily emphasized in both this song and video, is offset by some wonderfully inviting and invigorating music. They are not quite a repro of the past even though those late sixties reference points are audible, neither are they a one dimensional rockist assault despite a tendency to grab hold of you and wrestle your senses to the floor until they submit to The Pale White energy. There’s something happening here…
Ty Segall – Another California Song
An artist like Ty Segall makes the others all look like also-rans, especially in terms of his creative work ethic. He has yet another new album coming out on the 30th May called ‘Possession’ and is just about to complete a series of solo acoustic dates which have kept him occupied for most of the past three months, but he won’t be out of view for long as from 5th July he’s off on a full electric band tour that will take care of the largest chunk of the summer. As can be heard here, even when he’s playing with just an acoustic guitar, there is still a kind of liquid energy pumping through every second of his playing and he continues to knock out good songs too. Could he be a little too prolific perhaps? I am as guilty as anyone of paying less attention to an artist who is always producing over one making a rarer, occasional appearance. But ignore Ty Segall and it’s you, the listener, who misses out. You have been warned…
Villagers – I Want What I Don’t Need
Taken from the most recent Villagers album ‘That Golden Time’ which has been out for a while but is being toured right now and well worth investigating by anyone with an ear for acoustic singer-songwriting played by a genuine craftsman. Villagers are the performing name for Conor O’Brien who has been playing under this banner, following the break up of his first band The Immediate, for fifteen years now. In that time he has deservedly won acclaim for the economical poetic flare in his lyric writing in addition to the delicate, refined touch and tone of his guitar playing. Both are on full display here in a song that is a potent reflection on the impulses that drive an individual to passionately achieve the gratification of desires that will ultimately be rendered meaningless whilst acknowledging he will go after them all the same. This is song composing as a very real art form.
Ringo Starr – Look Up
We will end this return edition of Fresh Juice with one more welcome return to the saddle from a much loved pop cowboy with the title track from his latest record. Obviously I have a massive Beatles bias which runs through all my music writing but I have never really had the blinkers on, especially where the solo albums of Ringo are concerned. But this one, with the production muscle and co-writing chops of T-Bone Burnette in its arsenal as well as a cast of top drawer country and bluegrass names like Billy Strings, Molly Tuttle and Alison Krauss among the credits, is credibly being hailed as Ringo’s best ever solo album. Even on the gushing vinyl liner notes written by Elvis Costello, the suggestion is put forth that the ‘Look Up’ album is the natural follow up to ‘Beatles For Sale’. Well that particular claim might not stick but this is as strong a selection of songs that Ringo has ever sung as a solo artist and how great is it that we can still hear a Beatle in this fine a voice in 2025? Did the Beatles era every really end? This one argues persuasively the magic is still alive in ’25….
Before embarking on a house move (which is the reason this monthly playlist post is so late by the way) I indulged a musical itch I have been dying to scratch for many years attending a Friday night show at Ronnie Scott’s Jazz Club in London. As a jazz lover whose appreciation and journey into the music form now feels perpetual, this has long felt like the ultimate place to sit back and soak up an evening of the ever-progressing journey that arguably remains Americas greatest contribution to world and musical culture. Ronnie Scott’s has of course been mythologized thanks to its impressive, decades long, cast of legendary jazz names that have walked those modest boards and the kudos that is picked up over the years with documentaries and the sense of jazz establishment permanence it exudes. I have seen those old pieces of footage too, tantalizing images of thespians and faces from the art world sitting amongst the crowd in a smoky, dimly lit, sixties / seventies ambience. And best of all, with inevitable concessions to some appropriate, tasteful maintenance and gentle refurbishing over the years, the place still resonates with the same hazy mid-century orange, underground after-hours club vibe.
I went to see John Scofield, a real deal in terms of catching an artist whose legendary jazz credentials stand up to scrutiny and this could genuinely be described as a rare club appearance. His electric guitar playing was indeed mesmerizing likewise the interplay between Scofield’s lead and the bass and drum support from his trio ensemble. Better still, the seats me and my partner were shown to at the side of stage left felt like they placed us in the heart of the action as we bore witness to John seemingly picking the set list out of thin air, calling out the tunes to the band as he played. And to top the experience off, there were even one or two famous faces in attendance, most notably the actor Simon Callow propping up the bar in relaxed off-duty actor splendor as he delighted in the jazz fireworks sparkling from John Scofield’s guitar. Overall, this Friday night at Ronnie Scott’s gave me the jazz experience I had long craved but nevertheless, I do still have a gripe.
After the main set of the evening there was due to be another late-night set which, as ticket holders, we were entitled to remain in the club for. The itinerary sees a DJ play for at least an hour while a substantial proportion of the Scofield crowd leaves the club and a new crowd are slowly admitted. Nothing wrong with any of this obviously, I can even accept the need for the over officiousness shown to us by the waiters when we thought we’d take a little wander up to the bar before being pounced on and informed that if we abandoned our seats we might lose them altogether. OK, club rules observed. The problem was the music pumping from the DJ booth. If you have ever had a gig going experience tarnished by the house PA playing wholly unconnected music the second the final notes of the onstage musician have faded you might relate to my annoyance. If you have just got lost in a deep live experience, in the moments after it has ended one surely needs to allow the after-impressions to spin and settle inside your head for a time? The sudden invasion of unrelated, generic background music has the effect of a disinfectant being wiped across your audio senses and instantly kills any lasting sensations.
That exact same thing had happened the night before actually (yes I had been on a little musical road trip) at the conclusion of a dissonant John Cale set at the De La Warr Pavilion at Bexhill-On-Sea. He had encored with a free-flowing run through of the Velvet Underground classic ‘I’m Waiting For The Man,’ a brilliant fusion of improvised character-acting lyrics and foundation shaking piano stabs that concluded an evening in the company of an art-rock titan on a real high. So, what piped through the in house PA the second the lights went up? Bob Marley, not someone I feel the need to critique negatively but in no way connected to what the audience had just witnessed, it felt like whoever made the choice did a quick internet search on John Cale, decided he was a 1970s act before consulting a streaming service for popular seventies music. Totally irrelevant to the evenings program that had just preceded. I felt the exact same irritation with the DJ that followed John Scofield. His bland, 4/4 repetitive beat loving sound instantly robbed Ronnie Scott’s of its identity transforming the joint into just another central London Friday night club and not a particularly good one at that. No doubt the DJ in question would argue that his set was a jazz centric feast, but I was not convinced, the odd suggestion of saxophone or trumpet did not save this from the middle-ground-mass pandering tedium I felt assaulted by.
So, by the evenings end, some time in the drunken early hours of the Saturday morning, my partner and I had riffed extensively on the horror that is predictable, uninspired electronic dance music invading and mostly ruining too many public situations nowadays. My point is its such a lazy choice, it is a cowardly option too made either by people fearful of unpopularity or just too narrow an awareness of all that music has to offer. There is, as I have said many times, over a hundred years of recorded music to select from now, there really is no excuse for opting to play anything crap. By the end of the night, we had formed a new collective called CLUBBED and were hatching plans to assault social media looking to swell our numbers, you never know we might even be a silent majority. CLUBBED is the Collective Lacerating Ubiquitous Bland Boring Electronic Dance. As the later morning arrived and sobriety fought its way back to the table, we realized the name is possibly a bit wordy. Then it dawned on us the whole idea was a bit rubbish really. Enjoy the playlist…
Fruit Tree Records 