Fuzzed out and frenzied orchestral ska that fizzles like the lit fuse on a firework and then delivers with a dazzling explosive chorus.
The track smashes through the speaker with a discordant skeletal refrain and a blood curdling wail. This dissonant noise is then shattered further with the monstrous riff run and thunderous drums.
As the smoke clears a beautiful horn section rises from the chaos to provide a home and sense of familiarity to the ecstatic electricity of the static buzz soundscape.
Yet even in the moments of seeming calm something a little feral lurks in the background and the frantic frenzied fists smashing down on the keys to pick out a haunting melody continues the wonky and unsettling motif.
Lyrically the song paints a picture of the darker side to nostalgia tinted glasses. The addictive sugar rush and obsession of playground fads that fed into certain less wholesome behaviours.
“I am the kid selling drugs in the jungle gym”
“No trade backs sucker, you still owe me”
Do you remember that slimey capitalist who had all the best cards but didn’t know his Poliwag from his Poliwhirl?
The track has a depth and deviant wit that is every bit as masterfully crafted as the spooky ska soundtrack.
It’s like Madness on a bad acid trip, and we are definitely keen to take another hit.
Words by Matt Miles.
