Vines : Ride
Strop-rockers’ ‘scrotum-grabbing’ return...
Lest we forget, this is a band who effortlessly surfed the zeitgeist two years ago whilst a bewildered rock universe looked on, simply because they are quite brilliant at their job: lifting great psych-pop tunes and imagery from the vaults (who else would have had the steel balls to write a song called 'Get Free'?) and reprising them for twenty-first century consumption. With added cheekbones.
'Ride' is an arse-slapping glam stomp which sounds like [a]Strokes[/a] dressed in tin foil and which grabs you by the scrotum within the first five seconds and then never lets go. Starting with a stuttering spasm of itchy-trigger machine gun guitars it explodes into a napalm chorus which will have indie-clubs from Penzance to Penicuik suing for structural damage whilst an antsy Craig howls dementedly about life being "the beginning, the middle and the end".
Oh, and b-side 'Give Up, Give Out, Give In' is a narcoleptic acoustic gem which sees Craig sighing "They've gone mad" on an extended loop, in a sly dig at his detractors.
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