Sleaford Mods: Key Markets (Harbinger Sound)
Jason Williamson – words, Andrew Fearn – music
1. Live Tonight
2. No One’s Bothered
3. Bronx in a Six
4. Silly Me
5. Cunt Make It Up
6. Face To Faces
8. In Quiet Streets
9. Tarantula Deadly Cargo
10. Rupert Trousers
11. Giddy on the Ciggies
12. The Blob
If you’re northern working class they make perfect sense. The accent and manners betray a world that is familiar and fraught with danger, can only be consumed from the inside. I’m just wondering what everyone else sees in them? They are very sight specific. If you’re a posh lad from the Home Counties or London or something you’re probably affecting the realness right now. Buying in. In the jargon of authenticity what the middle class think about the Sleaford Mods is far more important than what the Sleaford Mods are. So we get the reviews.
Music and swearing. The real key to the Sleaford Mods is the timing. The words, each one precise and perfectly judged, fit exactly where they should, the music the sounds that are brought in and are taken out at exactly the right moment. It’s fucking jazz. A snot fuelled skirmish across the trolley dash carpark of modern music, but fucking jazz nonetheless. Which is why the experimentalists loved ’em before you did. Syncopation or somesuch. Like a greyhound snarling past on the inside lane, there’s no flab, no extra weight, no unnecessary baggage, everything timed to perfection. I love the words and i love how the music doesn’t always get in the way.
The Sleaford back catalogue is a bitter tangle of also rans. But it hints at the greatness within and the brilliance to come. No-one listened to the Sleaford Mods two years ago now everyone’s at ’em. What’s changed? What’s got better and what’s got much, much worse? The answer, as ever, lies in amongst those lives that fall between the cracks, that get left behind. We are real. Just saying it seems important now.
Escapism can only take you so far and we’ve all gone farther than anyone dared imagine. We’re on our last legs as a society and the Sleaford Mods are here to remind us. Sandie Shaw’s urban decay and all of us who have been forgotten once more.
Where do you go with this and where is it carried out? In the discotheques of downtrodden small towns that are doomed and dotted at the end of the motorway networks? In the clean living vacuum packed technological progress of cut’n’paste living rooms? In tiny headphones pulsing across the damp mismatched bedroom pillows of the distraught and distracted? Who’s listening to the Sleaford Mods, and why?
Thing is this sound hasn’t come out of no-where, we’re listening to years of accumulated angst and experimentation. These are reflections from damaged life. And currently they’re the only ones we have, which is why Sleaford Mods should be treasured and adored.
It makes sense to me, being northern fucking working class scum. When i see posh boys claiming territory they have no right to claim it’s the Sleaford Mods i listen to to bring me back round. This is us. It makes sense. The raging and the sandpaper rough comes from a place that can only be experienced not simply documented. That’s why the middle class can mimic and imitate but never really feel. They can explain, buy in, suffer with the rest of us, but never just suffer. When your backs are up against the wall anything goes. And whatever comes along you’re grateful for.
What does it take to become a genuine cultural phenomenon?
Key Markets released July 24th is in the shops now
or buy online: http://cargorecordsdirect.co.uk/products/sleaford-mods-key-markets