SLEAFORD MODS 黑胶唱片和CD

Review: Britain's finest working class poets return with a tune named after the 1970s-80s extraterrestrial sitcom starring Robin Williams and Pam Dawber, which frontman Jason Williamson has himself described as "the sound of the central heating and the dying smells of Sunday dinner in a house on an estate in 1982". Fittingly the same year said TV show was cancelled.

It's not hard to hear what he means, providing your mind works that way. A sweeping, hypnotic, mechanical hook, the heavy atmosphere that seems to hang in the air long after the very UK, very deprecating rhymes end. Even Billy Nomates' beautiful, soulful vocals can't save it from drowning in delightful scuzz. Backed with the smoky breaks instrumental 'Little Bits', it bodes well for a new album in January, Spare Ribs, which is apparently based on the idea that elites place no value in the lives of everyday people. How apt.

Review: Perhaps unexpectedly for some given they're a band comprising a furious and profane man and another drinking lager whist staring at his laptop, Sleaford Mods have proved themselves on outfit ready to take on the world. Moreover, 'English Tapas', their fourth record to date, proves that they're only growing in stature and vitality with each record, but proving themselves a band who transcend genres as effortlessly as they summon up a particularly timely and unique brand of fierce invective. Place 'em on a lineage involving John Cooper Clarke, The Fall and The Streets if you like, but 'English Tapas' is very much of the now and possessed of a gritty intensity that is all this duo's own.