When covering their last EP, Spit Your Dummy Out, we suggested that Kid Klumsy were despite being around for a few years already “ready to grab a chunk of the limelight”. That they did with that particular release which just grabbed body and spirit like a rebellious puppeteer. Now they are getting greedy and going for even bigger rewards and rightly so for new offering, Singing Our Souls, is one seriously rousing incitement of the band’s uproarious punk ‘n’ roll.
Released on the UK band’s highly anticipated appearance at this year’s Rebellion Festival, Singing Our Souls hosts another six slabs of the Coalfield outfit’s voracious rock ‘n’ roll. Mischief and defiance are as ripe as ever within their bold and tenacious bodies of punk bred sound, Kid Klumsy stamping their own inescapable individuality with increasing vigour and relish throughout another outing which just had us leaping with over enthusiastic rigour.
Straight away we were being reeled in by the devious lure of guitar as opener Mr Right Man waited to pounce and that it did with zeal as rhythms bounded in and a devilish hook colluded with similarly virulent riffs. In no time the familiar tones of WEAB, also known as the front henchman at Dirt Box Disco, were stirring up their own side of belligerence, accosting and inciting with relish. A glorious scowling bassline just completed the epidemic of temptations fuelling song and listen, gang vocal persuasions only inflaming already eager engagement in the track’s virulent antics.
Not to be outdone, Slob thrusts its body forward with matching prowess and gusto next, the guitars weaving a web of catchy endeavour as riffs and bass snarled. The immediate sing-a-long enterprise of the band grabbed instinctive involvement, the song almost preying on an inherent weakness to resist such anthemic arousal. With muscles and catchy imagination swinging, the song devoured inhibitions before Dislexic Munkiz stormed the breathless remnants with its own rabidly catchy rock ‘n’ roll leaving exhaustion grinning from riff harried ear to ear. Ferocious in breath, devilish in touch, it just epitomises the Kid Klumsy creative audacity.
Love Is A Battery Field entangles ears next, initially with a guitar wire before breaking into an animated surge of predacious riffs and hungry rhythms, a fusion just as tenacious as fresh hooks and vocal baiting erupt around it. The bassline cast by Alistair in the midst of it all simply infested the passions being ably matched by the guitar incitement of Carl and Greg within the dynamic punches of drummer Jamie as vocals roar. Together it made for one fiercely persuasive attack though soon eclipsed by that of She’s A Fu*k. Alistair again leads the temptation, his lone hook at the start teasing eager ears before being ablaze with the fiery motivation of the guitars. With metal forged steel in its prowl and old school punk in its bearing, the track proves addition sparking rock ‘n’ roll with increasingly inventive temerity.
Maisy’s Song concludes the pleasure, its punk rock weave a swift and persistent urging on ears and body relentless in its nagging whilst relishing its success. It is a rousing end to another release from Kid Klumsy which effortlessly demanded and received unbridled attention; we sure to be merely one of a hefty crowd corrupted by its goodness upon its release, starting with those at Rebellion.
Singing Our Souls is released August 1st through STP Records. http://www.stprecords.co.uk/
Upcoming Kid Klumsy dates:
Friday July 5th – Mayhem At Micks Leicester
Saturday July 6th – Macclesfield Nags Head
Sunday July 14th – Coalville, The Vic Bikers Pub.
Friday July 19th – Leeds Brudenell (with Sham 69)
Friday July 26th – Stafford Redrum
Saturday July 27th – Sutton In Ashfield New Cross Pub
Saturday August 3rd – Carlisle The Brickyard (with The Skids, acoustic set)
Sunday August 4th – Blackpool Rebellion Festival
Friday August 30th – Basingstoke Irish Centre
Saturday August 31st – Southampton Shooting Star
Saturday September 28th – Newcastle, Northumbria Uni (North East Calling)
Saturday October 12th – Lancaster John O Gaunt.
Saturday October 26th – Manchester Ritz (with The Macc Lads)
Sunday November 3rd – Brighton The Prince Albert
Sunday November 24th – Bedford Esquires (Holy Molys)
Thursday November 28th – Nottingham Rescue Rooms
Friday December 13th – Abertillery Dolls House
Saturday December 21st – Manchester Star & Garter
Sunday December 22nd – Sheffield Corporation
Monday December 30th – Birmingham Hare n Hounds
Tuesday December 31st – Coalville The Vic – NYE Party
https://www.facebook.com/officialkidklumsy https://kidklumsy.bandcamp.com/
Pete RingMaster 02/07/2019
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
The impressive start is immediately matched by I Love You and its ska natured saunter. As mentioned variety in the Headsticks sound is enjoyably no new thing but it is certainly at its most eager, bold, and fluidly unpredictable within Kept In The Dark. With a Ruts-esque lilt to its stroll, the song had little trouble in getting under the skin and luring participation from body and voice before Peace Or War erupts in a roar of punk ‘n’ roll carousing where the forceful but virulent swings of drummer Tom Carter collude hungrily with the brooding tones of Nick Bayes’ bass as the wiry melodic tendrils of guitar from Steven Dunn align with his rapacious riffs.
The following Lawyers For You stomps around like a fusion of The Adicts and Dirt Box Disco, laying down gentle teasing lures which rise up into irritable charges, moments which will undoubtedly echo every time you see those infernal TV ads. As with most tracks, the song’s title tells you all you need to know about the focus of attention, Disabled Parking another delicious example. Again hooks and grooves become a fresh addiction as rhythms get the body up to misdeeds, Al Sation a magnetic roar poking at the relevant targets. All that is needed is someone to invent a way to have this blaring out every time someone encroaches on spaces they are not eligible for.
The EP opens with Grow up, an instantly boisterously energetic proposal with sinew strung tenacity. Of all the tracks it is the one which reminds most of Dirt Box Disco yet straight away bares its own steely breath and touch as hooks and rhythms almost battle for attention around Weab’s ever persuasive tones. Swiftly drawing eager involvement from body and voice, the track strings the listener up like a puppet, getting them dancing and roaring with zeal, our personal exhaustion proof.
A whiff of old school lines next up Caveman.com, the excellent feral stomp something akin to The Vibrators meets Turbonegro but distinctly DBD while Stop Shouting similarly taps into seventies punk for its core hook and riffery, draping it in the band’s inimitable anthemic rock ‘n’ roll instincts. Only the deaf could evade its physical and persuasive holler though even Fazzo’s incisive rhythms could probably stir their senses. Both tracks get body and spirit bouncing though maybe not as hungrily as 11th May or the following Mummy’s Boy. The first jabs and harries with beats and riffs, vocals commanding participation as the body throws itself around to the sounds while its successor flies through ears with seventies punk ferocity and DIY aggression to stir even greater involvement.
The following Shutdown offers its own collusion of punk and metal lined rock ‘n’ roll next; prowling riffs and biting rhythms a predacious incitement matched in success and intrusive magnetism by a litter of hooks and vocal unity. Standing at the fore SV is the trigger, his tones a belligerent yet welcoming cause to get on board with whilst the bass simply seduces the appetite with its devious groove. The track rocks the joint with ease, bodies and speakers rocking just as tenaciously through the more corrosive presence of Gatecrash and in turn by the seriously irresistible of Fuck This For A Game Of Soldiers. The first of the two lacks some of the sparks of its predecessor, such the former’s inventive bent, but still has full command of again throat and physical participation with its dirty punk ‘n’ roll while the second simply snarls and invades the senses with its primal hearted, melodically catchy antics. Initially a predator in sound and invention, it evolves into another SV anthem which chews up the listener whilst stirring them into an outpouring of unbridled energy. Not Wired Up Right features a special guest in Ginger Wildheart on guitar and backing vocals on three tracks and it would be no surprise if this superb dirt-fest of a romp was not one of them such its unsterilized gutter nurtured rock ’n’ roll.
The excellent Little White Lie romances the senses with its multi-vocal union and warm textures next, all fuelled by the wilful and headstrong energy and sound expected of the band while its successor, Working For Wankers, has vocal chords at full volume in unity with its sentiment and defiance. Blending explosive and calm pastures, choppy riffs and melodic teasing leading to ferocious expulsions, the song has ears and appetite hooked within seconds, success equally found by the snarling Fat Kid with its carnal metallic riffs and toxic grooves.
There is no moment to calm down either as the belligerent punk rock of Stop Looking At Your Phone roars in ears, its antagonistic charge and dispute irresistible. It is a wall of sound and protestation, a torrent of violent riffs and equally uncompromising rhythms driven by the vocal antipathy of Spunk and the band. At barely a breath over a minute in length, the song is like being given the juiciest steak and only allowed one bite before it is whipped away, but what a mouthful it is.
Drunken Nights whips up attention with its harmonic vocal calls and niggling hook next whilst Alright follows with a great Stiff Little Fingers like character to its full throttle stomp. Both provide choruses which instantly spark eager participation; again a constant success which is just as inescapable in the likes of Isn’t Where It Ends, a seventies scented oi! bred track which might lack the final spark of previous tracks but still whips up nothing less than thick enjoyment.
The outstanding start is quickly matched by Run for Your Life. From its first breath bluesy guitar caresses hit the spot, their coaxing soon taken up a notch by the throbbing lure of Carly Quinn’s bass which in turn sparks a fresh wave of agitation in guitar and rhythms. The song’s prime hook has the imagination ensnared just as swiftly, its devilment carrying a great Rocket From The Crypt air to it. Soon though, Blackey is standing centre stage with her great contentious expression and sandy throated tones, as around her melodies infuse an increasing scent of the blues into their and the song’s feistily infectious rock ‘n’ roll endeavour.