the tuesday club

Again another release to which in some bout of inane stupidity or thoughtlessness – or both as the case may be – we’ve managed to separate from its accompanying press release. The Tuesday Club who we’ve not heard around these here parts for a considerable while, missing persons ads in the broadsheets aside are back with a new three track CD – and its quite dandy. Been honest where you really expecting anything less. The first in a series of 4 planned releases I seem to recall from the press release before we lost it, something about collecting coupons and stuff – oh ask the band or visit their website for more info. Anyway we love the Tuesday Club not least because Andy from the band – formerly of the Scratch who these days are on prolonged sabbatical – actually takes time out to send handwritten notes usually along the lines of ‘oi bollocks play this or else’….of course we jest though I do recall one time being advised that refusals to play said discs would result in Chas n’ Dave being sent around to our gaff to play which I must admit did have us dropping an extra pair of the aforementioned man wear in sheer alarm. Obviously we’ve digressed somewhat – anyway these days Andy heads up the poptastic 7 piece The Tuesday Club who where so called originally because they practiced on Tuesday’s though these days on Monday’s – getting like an episode of Soap now isn’t it. New sing-a-ling is called the ‘my consciousness’ EP and incorporates – as advertised three dandified tracks the lead out title cut being a killer sortie prime packed in the kind of punch you out purring pop effervescence that you rarely hear these days, power popping motifs bedded upon a retro new wave throb seductively teased by femme harmonies all shoehorned into an attractively addictive bubble grooving that zig zags, swoons, sighs and soars its way into your affections like some slab of late 70’s teen dreamed rock-a-hula cobbled up by an afterhours studio party attended by members of Blondie, Jags and the Motors. ‘something major’ slyly nods to former charges the Scratch’s dayglo punk pop nuances coming clipped in an acutely cute seasoning of Ant-esque kookiness albeit as though stage crashing a Rezillos gig – just love the ‘Banana Splits’ like harmonies. Rounding out the grooves and upping the pop kudos quotient several notches is ‘harsh tales of ancient news’ which as kooky, dippy and off the wall as it is sounds to these ears like its fell off the final cut for ‘dirk wears white sox’ after suffering Devo-esque flashbacks.   

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