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Psychedelic Prog-Metal is hardly my cup of tea but London-based Purson sweeten their long-haired riffing with some solid tunes and have a hell of a lead singer in Rosie Cunningham. They would make the ideal soundtrack for an old Hammer film involving witchcraft and virgins being sacrificed on pentangles.
Is this going to be the next big thing? Time to break out the velvet flares and Dennis Wheatley novels.
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Some days you just want some big dumb rawk music and this has it all: Smoke bombs, guitar solos, tight trousers, and hairy chests. Magnificent stuff.
1) Why is it in black and white? England wasn’t that primitive in 1973. 2) Noel Edmonds was always an annoying twat, wasn’t he? 3) But how great was Phil Lynott? 4) Fantastic pair of dancing dollies at 2:31, and keep an eye out for the lad in the starry jumper behind them who may be the worst dancer I’ve ever seen. Hope he wasn’t trying to pull. 5) “Telly’s on the blink again!” (my Grandad)
I had to go in to work on Sunday and as I was all alone in the office I indulged in a secret act so shameful I would have been mortified if anyone saw me. I was working away with iTunes playing in the background but when this tune came on I turned the volume up to 11 and completely, um, rocked out to it.
I’m feeling lazy, time to get out the cardboard guitar.
We used to call blokes like this a Grebo which is mangled slang for a greasy biker type (though its meaning seems to have expanded since I were a lad). I don’t know if there was a slang term for a female Grebo though, a Grebette maybe?
The sentimental musings of an ageing expat in words, music, and pictures. Mp3 files are up for a limited time so drink them while they're hot.
Contact me: lee at londonlee dot com