The Vat Egg Imposition: Sheriff Of Nottingham – Single Review

The Vat-Egg Imposition: Sheriff Of Nottingham (Alphaville Records) DL/ Cassette Out Now 9/10 Andy Brown reviews The Sheriff Of Nottingham for Louder Than War, the latest single from Leeds-based, indie-punk oddballs The Vat-Egg Imposition. Last year I was lucky enough to catch The Vat-Egg Imposition supporting Jeffrey Lewis & Los Bolts at The Brudenell Social […] The post The Vat Egg Imposition: Sheriff Of Nottingham – Single Review appeared first on Louder Than War.

The Vat Egg Imposition: Sheriff Of Nottingham – Single Review

The Vat-Egg Imposition: Sheriff Of Nottingham (Alphaville Records)

DL/ Cassette

Out Now

9/10

Andy Brown reviews The Sheriff Of Nottingham for Louder Than War, the latest single from Leeds-based, indie-punk oddballs The Vat-Egg Imposition.

Last year I was lucky enough to catch The Vat-Egg Imposition supporting Jeffrey Lewis & Los Bolts at The Brudenell Social Club; playing a set peppered with the kind of catchy, punk-pop once delivered by the late, great Pete Shelley. Add to this the rather indelible image of a vocalist dressed as a man-sized egg while brandishing a carrier bag full of crisps and a precious, solitary can of Rubicon Mango. They were always going to leave an impression.

Sheriff Of Nottingham might just be the most ludicrously addictive 2 minutes 45 seconds of music committed to tape this year. Vocalist Vat-Egg sings us a tale from the perspective of the titular bad guy. It’s not easy for the poor Sheriff, Robin Hood keeps putting arrows in his guards and the peasants all think he’s the bee’s knees. To add insult to injury, Maid Marion has dumped the Sheriff and is currently striding about the forest with the self-styled Prince of Thieves. All of this is put to a sprightly punk tune, sprinkled with infectious keyboard lines and backing vocals worthy of the Merry Men. Alan Rickman, Tony Robinson and that big, anthropomorphic wolf from the Disney film would most certainly approve.

My favourite part of buying a cassette single back in the nineties was always getting to hear that exclusive b-side. The equally fantastic Get My Green Mug Back Again recounts the time our protagonist lent his favourite mug to a neighbour, “It had sugar in it/ I think that she needed it/ To put on her Weetabix”. The story takes a turn for the worse when he reveals, “But she never came round again/ And now somebody else has moved in”. This highly entertaining and all too relatable tale is put to a genuinely joyful and immensely catchy, toe-tapping indie-pop tune. Imagine, if you will, a young John Shuttleworth fronting the Buzzcocks. Two insanely catchy songs crammed with humour, fun and Python worthy absurdity – what more could you want?

~

You can listen to and buy the single via Bandcamp here

You can find The Vat Egg Imposition on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Instagram

Artwork by the mysterious, houseboat dwelling Garold Barold

All words by Andy Brown. You can visit his author profile and read more of his reviews for Louder Than War here

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The Taboo Club: Debauched Times – album review

The Taboo Club Debauched Times (Self-released) 8/10 If coronavirus has created the end of the world, The Taboo Club have prepared the perfect soundtrack. Sam Lambeth reviews the Birmingham bombast merchants’ devilishly delightful debut. The Taboo Club can be forgiven for thinking the title Debauched Times would capture the zeitgeist of today’s anything-for-a-thrill youth. Instead, […] The post The Taboo Club: Debauched Times – album review appeared first on Louder Than War.

The Taboo Club: Debauched Times – album review

The Taboo Club

Debauched Times

(Self-released)

8/10

If coronavirus has created the end of the world, The Taboo Club have prepared the perfect soundtrack. Sam Lambeth reviews the Birmingham bombast merchants’ devilishly delightful debut.

The Taboo Club can be forgiven for thinking the title Debauched Times would capture the zeitgeist of today’s anything-for-a-thrill youth. Instead, the global pandemic of coronavirus has rendered the world less debauched and more drudging, generations of revellers forced to boycott bacchanalia and begrudgingly embrace sensibility.

One thing The Taboo Club have inadvertently predicted, however, is that agitating feeling of the apocalypse.

On their accomplished and alluring debut album, the sharp-dressed Second City swordsmen have addressed the core themes that would rear their heads as the world collapses – namely love, religion, death, fear, anger and a whole shovelful of sex.

However, that’s not to say Debauched Times is the soundtrack to a sorrowful sundown – it’s a lush, adventurous record replete with wit, verve, wisdom, scandal and passion. As singer Rob Lilley addresses in the opening few words, “there’s a storm coming…”

Indeed, the jagged title track feels like a grand address to a decaying globe. Brimming with blithe overindulgence and unrepentant bombast, Lilley snarks “I’m going through a self-destructive streak, because the future is looking bleak.” While the world burns, Lilley uses it to light a fresh fag.

Debauched Times looks to the good book for inspiration, but not as we know it – opener Jesus of the Desert roars into life with a stinging guitar riff, a sizzling brass motif and an explosive chorus of snarling vocals, brutal distortion and strident sax. By the time Lilley winks that “There’s no time like the present to change your life,” you sound like you’re far from Heaven and in the fiery flames of Satan’s cesspit.

Meanwhile, the stirring, stormy bass jabs that usher in Bible John are suitably engorged by swells of eerie church organ and Lilley’s full-throated fury. Their debut single nigh on two years ago, the murder ballad has lost none of its ferocity within an album context.

Lilley’s brooding baritone may be front and centre, but it’s the adventurous musicianship that keeps things ticking.

Strangers swaps atmospheric, fragmented guitar solos and scattered drums for a cloud-busting barrage of fruity brass and galloping guitar chords. Small Hours’ drums mimic the fragile Maps and match its intensity with twinkling piano and sombre six-strong codas. Debauched Times trades twisted rage for a kaleidoscopic bridge of swirling synths, lush guitars and shuddering bass.

When acts of God are off the menu, The Taboo Club play more faithful to their name by producing songs straight from the crotch. The boogie-woogie jangle Visions of Lace is bolt after bolt of burning, bruising lust, Ben Oerton’s surging organs balancing boisterously with Lilley’s frantic desires.

The scandalous, rousing sax and soulful strumming of I Wish There Was A Way sees Lilley hope for a warm body to drop into his fourth brandy – when he sighs “I bought you flowers and I kissed your face,” it’s less of a loving tribute to a partner and more a libidinous expectation.

There’s room for some tenderness among the poker-hot parlours of forbidden trysts, too. Small Hours is where Lilley’s voice soothes rather than snarls, the song having the resonance of Bloc Party at their most emotive (couplets about baking cakes aside).

“Will someone share a drink with me to these debauched times?” Lilley howls as Hell envelopes everything around him. On the evidence of this ambitious, irresistible first bow, they’ll be plenty of people ready with a glass.

The Taboo Club are on Facebook and Twitter. You can purchase Debauched Times via the group’s Bandcamp page.

All words by Sam Lambeth. Sam is a Birmingham-based journalist and musician. More of his work for Louder Than War is available on his archive. His music can be found on Spotify.

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