Taking nothing away from the band or their deeply engrossing and engaging music, it is actually embarrassing that a band such as this needs to exist in 21st Century Britain. It’s almost like 1979 never happened and we’ve not learnt a thing. Rising interest rates, poverty, food bands, a summer of discontent, strikes left, right and centre, a Tory government that is doing its best to increase the gap between the rich and poor and to top that off a pair of clueless Thatcher-lite puppets who just seem to spend their time arguing about who will be the worst Prime Minster for the country.
If there is a bright side, it is that bands like The Dead Thatchers DO exist. I recently reviewed the debut album from Reality Asylum, anarcho-punks who are justifiably angry and put their songs across a la Crass, Discharge, Flux of Pink Indians et al. You might expect a similar approach from a band with a name such as The Dead Thatchers. Not so.
While their righteous anger is aimed at similar targets and their musical approach couldn’t be further from Reality Asylum. The same punk attitude is present, which at the end of the day is really what punk is, an ethos, not a look or a sound. Queue a pile on about what punk really is… or isn’t… Anyway, other than that punk attitude, the band are nigh on impossible to pigeonhole. Cherry picking what they see fit to match the message and passion behind the songs/spoken word performances.
You’d be better listening for yourselves, but let me try to explain how I hear The Dead Thatchers. Takes a deep breath. The album opens with Copbeast, which could have been recorded by Mescaleros era Joe Strummer in conjunction with members of The Cramps and Suicide. But don’t expect that to continue ad infinitum, no. this album is a vast canvas of styles. I can hear a distorted glam-era Bowie/Suicide feel later in the album on Glowing Embers, perhaps with an element of JAMC for good measure.
Elsewhere, the band create subversive experimental noise soundscapes, bringing in a range of influences, even jazz, to provide a backdrop for some thought provoking spoken word prose and anger inducing samples demonstrating the state of the world in the 21st Century. There are darkly sinister elements where the affecting sounds almost induce a feeling of unease, Skin of the Ghost using sobbing in the background to great effect. Some of these dramatic pieces come over like The Amazing Snakeheads meet Alabama 3. What’s not to love?
And then there is the lyrics. You can probably guess some of the subject matter – from food bands to corruption, true anarchism to Tory politics and the miner’s strike, to refugees and Palestine. Every word carefully written to create some thought provoking masterpiece’s, blending powerful spoken word performances with soundbites, interspersed with the aforementioned experimental noise and sweeping cinematic arrangements to create an enthralling, sometimes upsetting, but ultimately invigorating listen.
The title track itself is an inspirational work of sheer positivity, taking its influence from the scenes of solidarity in Kenmure Street last year, while one of the albums other powerful statement pieces is the epic Ballad of a Coal Miner, looking to history, and bemoaning a lack of progress.
The band have recently followed up the album with a new 3 track EP, Perfect Vision. The lead song, Fuck Putin, is a raucous fury fuelled distortion heavy thunderous romp, while Sunflower takes the pace down a bit and takes its lead from songs like Glowing Embers. Notes From an Asylum is another thought provoking statement piece, a darkly sinister musical canvas providing a backdrop to a dramatic and deeply provocative questioning monologue.
Both releases are available via the Bandcamp link below, all money from downloads will be donated to foodbanks.
Thanks for the cracking review mate. ♥️👌🎶