I have fond memories of the first time I saw this band... walking, much beshroomed and bedazzled, through the crowds at Glastonbury, towards the New Bands tent and seeing Sarah Nixey on the stage wearing what from a distance looked to be nothing at all but later turned out to be some kind of Crash-Test Dumy catsuit.
Later, mid way through the set,I had one of those sad druggy episodes / epiphanies (if you are a sad druggy episode) when you really think she is singing at
1 comment:
You bought me their 'Facts of Life' when I left Bridgy. They sound like the bastard offspring of St.Etienne and some stinking dirty dog perverts.
She sounds like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth (actually...I don't think I'm gonna extend that metaphor any further) and was accompanied by two funny lookin' little fellers who, for some reason, I always think of as french - maybe a subconscious Serge G. link, maybe a thinly concealed francophobia - they look distinctly shifty.
On the album cover, she's got on that vaguely intimidating office wear and gives off those vibes that I think Tony picks up from Kirsty on 'Location, Location, Location'.
The first track 'Art of Driving' drags every gag it can out of the driving = sex theme...."learn that the accelerator pedal isn't always a man's best friend"....truly classic.
Then driving theme becomes something weirdly beautiful on "The English Motorway System"
Why aren't they dead famous ?
Post a Comment