I was asked by Lupine to write about them and their artists for the first release on their label. Here's the blurb I came up with.
Those mad-eyed rangers and damaged strangers gather together frequently in the old North West. Time seems to stand still as those there to entertain ricochet off walls or hang themselves from rafters; sometimes they just sit and weave a mystical vibration from a guitar and speak of the blues or flying fish while some sing of the aftermath of war and of retaining Jobseekers Allowance.
This brings us to where the crowds flock to see Dirty Circus and witness their acrobatic electronics and that gilt-edged sweaty rock and roll they do so well for the plight of the common everyman and his vices. Where we see the debut and subsequent performances of The V.Cs, three outcasts from a mysterious military research centre who proceeded to zap and counteract the public with surf guitars, electronic magic wands and a sinister use of costume and eccentricity.
Dulcet tones from Gerard Starkie were heard at the birth of Lupine on a night that had a threat of a thunderstorm in the air, and again, as summer passes over us with a humidity that is soul-sapping, Gerard returns with a single-minded determination, with a new angle, a new flavour, a new song, coming full circle almost, with Lupine's path to this record.
From there we come across Moco, with their psych-raw, northern-soul, catchy rock and roll, provide a tasting of 'Freaks' and bring up memories of past dark times in the sweaty but swish Lux Club, where the walls would rattle to Mr Jones gyrations and the whole sonic blast of their songs would cause followers of their racket to lose their minds and limbs and make them question the complete notion of what real pop music is and should sound like, coming up with Moco's mantras as the answer.
Cerebral psychedelic blues with twists and charm from Mat Turner, another of Lupine's ever-present artists who beguiles people with his whole philosophy of song writing. He once had some mates who helped him record 'Fresco Blade' but they're gone now, leaving Mat to continue his search for the definitive edge and blur of his thoughts through song.
One of the best singalong parts to a song in the last thirty years pops up on All Your Love by The Loungs, where grown men and sober women have been known to break out into teletubbies speak and join in with bearded dancers and flamenco farmers to their special brand of jaunty joyous pop music that exists in the similar kind of stratosphere as the Flaming Lips and flying pigs. And so the future is still happening right now, with Lupine howling and hollering on in their own unique way, taking the inroads, the back streets and the highways to where they see fit, with the mad-eyed rangers and damaged strangers in tow.
