suzukis The Suzukis (CD, £6.95)label: Deltasonic
In a smoke filled rehearsal room in an old mill in Wigan, an unassuming gang of lads are cooking up a fierce racket. Song after song falls out of the speakers like a souped up Sex Pistols with a dash of early Verve reverb and Oasis swagger. Itís been a long time coming but hereís a band for the disaffected youth to get into. A band that match the sullen boredom and nihilistic pent up anger of battered small-town Britain with a fistful of big anthems. Don't let them fool you, Britain is not all fancy wine bars and radio 2 jazz pop. There are still some bands out here who walk it like they talk it. Bands who live in the real world of cut price Britain, but are still capable of making great art. Itís the primal appeal of rock n roll. Itís you and your mates, some amps, a lot of attitude and some loud guitars. This is the Suzukis, the best post Oasis band to arrive on the scene in years. The songs are anthems, the kind of anthems they will be singing on the terraces if we had any terraces left,. The band donít even know themselves how good they are. Sitting here is like sitting in Denmark Street with the Pistols in 1976 as they perfected their enormous sound. The Suzukis have got that punk rock raw power, except there is no agenda here, no freaky wardrobe; just four lads having a laugh and creating a huge wall of sound. The Suzukis hammer out their tunes knowing the simple songs are always the best. These songs will start riots. They will be the soundtrack for the next generation of bored youth growing up in forgotten towns; this is the sound of council estate Britain. The first single to be released from their debut album is ĎAre You Happy With Yourself?í the perfect choice to herald their arrival. ďItís about asking yourself if youíre happy with the life youíre being allowed to live,Ē explains singer Chris Veasey. ďIf not then not just putting the TV on and going back to sleep because it isnít going to start feeling better, itís going to cripple you to the point where you donít even know or care if youíre satisfied or notĒ Chris Veasey spits his vocals out with that kind of attitude that primetime Liam had in spades. However he has also got his own manner, a brusque northern no bullshit, hands in pockets, staring into the void stance. He claims his words are about nothing but then he would! The Suzukis are also brilliant musicians. Robert Warnes is a great bassist. Heís the spine of the band. The bass really hammers it out, driving the songs along with a deep, almost dub sound, but driving like the Pistols, locking with Stuart Robinsonís primeval drums. Adam Bamfordís guitar hammers out three chord riffs that stick in your mind but also crank up the adrenaline pile driving the songs. Thereís such a great power in brutal simplicity. The guitar is ruthless, yet sneaks off into psychedelic dub soundscapes. The sort of psychedelic finery- the classic north west psychedelia- the mystic scaly kind of stuff perfected by the Stone Roses and loved by generations of bands since then. They have that indefinable weirdness and strange twist that seems to bubble out from the least likely of bands. The Suzukis are a real gang; itís the classic case of the band against the world. The sheer power of their songs reflects this and will manifest itself in their huge wall of sound when they play in stadiums next year. They look like the kind of street youth that the Daily Mail is so scared of and have songs that everyone is going to be singing in a few months time. And Thank fuck for that because British guitar bands have got so boring recently. Everything sounds so watered down. Whereís the anger? Whereís the adrenalin? Thereís got to be a band with some kind of edge. Some kind of attitude and thatís The Suzukis. The Suzukis are in your face and their music taps into the raw aggression that is the real England.
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