"...in the darkened layers of discontent that envelope each of their alt-country mini-epics lies the germ of something truly special..."
Piercing country and western’s fragile heart with almighty bolts of Teutonic menace, [a]Country Teasers[/a] have been circumnavigating music’s paranoid fringes for almost nine years now. It’s been a strange journey; one that has taken the foursome from Edinburgh to London and back again. Twice. Not that their seemingly ceaseless venture has provided any solace or emotional respite, mind. Heaven forbid. Indeed, with their queasy carousel of dirty, trailer-trash twanging and droning Krautrock nihilism, the Teasers are simply too hepped-up on the heady thrill of misery to bother about the comfort of their passengers. But hey, that’s just fine by us. Because, in the darkened layers of discontent that envelope each of their alt-country mini-epics lies the germ of something truly special. Songs like ‘Sandy’ ([I]”I hate women/And I hate men”[/I]) and ‘Tights’ display a cocksure grasp of the perverse humour that squirmed beneath Captain Beefheart‘s finest moments, but it’s when their country gripes blossom into full-blown, contagious rants that the Teasers really score. ‘Demon In The Belly’ is their best, a droning duel between diseased guitars that comes deep-fried in frontman Benedict Waters’ twisted, cut’n’paste sloganeering. It’s sick, wrong and absolutely, irrefutably ace. “Goodnight London,” slurs Waters by way of a farewell. And, in a strange way, we know exactly what he means.