A few years back, some young dude deduced that the nascent [a]Idlewild[/a] sounded like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs. By that very same token, [B]The Starries[/B] must surely
“That was the worst live performance ever!” So says one Richard Burke, and he should know – he’s the singer in Birmingham three-piece The Starries who, one song into their set, are already redefining the heartily jagged barriers of rock’n’roll.
True, Richard is helped no end by one utterly buggered guitar strap, which leads the poor fella to spend half the gig either on his knees or simply just falling over. But, equally, a lot of the mess is his fault, and his fault only.
Behind him, drummer Steve Kelly and bassist Paul Shipley tense up, waiting for the next accident to happen. Out front, punters stare aghast as the tragic events masquerading as some bizarre form of entertainment unfold. To wit, bass and drums do their punky American thing as tightly as feasibly possible considering the singing guitarist is a whirling, collapsing, screaming blues murderer.
A few years back, some young dude deduced that the nascent Idlewild sounded like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs. By that very same token, The Starries must surely be akin to Idlewild falling down a flight of stairs falling off a mountain.
“This is the slow one,” lies Richard, hopelessly. Very good attitude, it goes without saying.