the bordellos

Now had it been the case that we had forgone our usual RSD doorman duties at Probe records earlier yesterday whereupon the three best things we heard all day from the amassed crowds – in order of merit – were….

  1. Some wit rolling up to the front door to asking ‘is there a queue here’ unaware of the looks could kill honing in on his very person from the line stretching behind him to the Bluecoat
  2. Another hapless soul pulling up and after witnessing the lines and the crowd in the shop observing and enquiring therein – ‘do they buy records here mate’ – to which the response was ‘not the best day to ask mate’ to which he looked around at the queue and the crowd inside for a second time and asked ‘why’
  3. Do you have the Bieber record – nobody laughed, nobody said a word as the lines of tumble weed paraded through the shop and time stood perilously still for what seemed like an age.

And dare we forget to mention the chap who huffed and puffed in queue and once in proceeded to knock everyone over in an attempt to grab the Doctor Who albums and once safely secured grinned geek-ily at his embarrassed friends waving them in the air before proceeding to pretty much descend on the 7 inch wall rack like a locust removing most sleeves from the singles gallery. Such a gent.   

Anyway back to the point of this – had we not been there to witness all that and instead here listening to toons, we might have gotten to this a lot faster and somewhat earlier. Not wishing to rain on parades, St Helens own sore thumbs and overcasting sonic storm cloud the Bordellos have made available a free to download EP to celebrate the vinyl festivities. Entitled ‘grin – new free music day’, the EP gathers together 7 cuts cooled in typical dour observationalism which I must admit we here are more than a tad fond of given we prefer the Bordellos when they’re in a mellowed and slightly distracted and wayward mood.  As ever never ones to miss the chance of a dig the liner notes describe said release as ‘free new music to listen to as you queue to pay over the odds for reissues of old releases at a shop you ignore the other 364 years of the year’. Well said that man for between the groaning grumbles of those who dismiss RSD as a gimmick, they so often miss the vital point that it’s not the records that are the event here but the actual patronage of these iconic beasts known as record shops, and yes they are open all year not just RSD and of course other records are available. Amid the digital grooves on this lobe pinching ear burning head turner you’ll be greeted to minimalist post everything techno courtesy of the dismissive greeting of the title track, which aside channelling pre c-81 electronic cold war edginess – think the Normal drizzled in the Fall-esque gauze of Decoration, something we suspect that might well catch the passing ear of those polytechnic youth-ers among you. Next up an impishly crooked homage of sorts to the mighty ‘slits’ is cast in the distant air of Half Man Half Biscuit while the criminally brief mellow bruising of ‘hurting kind’ – the best thing here it should be said – is spirited away in a spectral 60’s shimmer toning that suggests a nod or two to a certain Mr Orbison in collusion with Mr Meek. Now what I love about the bordellos most of all is the fact that had I not known better I’d be suspecting they’d been rifling through our record collection in so much as they have a devious tendency of momentarily calling to mind vague strains of previous fallen heroes, ‘the abba lovers’ encapsulates this perfectly – a lazy eyed lo-fi frail babe teased and trimmed in the kind of wistful distraction that once upon a time engaged the grooves of platters by the Freed Unit – albeit in their ‘gigglegoo’ phase and the much missed Jumbo. Somewhere else ‘plasticine man’ grooves along to a sparse and gruff detailing that hints of a youthful Fall wiring leaving ‘grin’ to round off the set though not before the arrival of the perfectly derailed ‘mark’s Sunday experience’ – honoured and indeed humbled – a song dedicated to this tiny little blog, we were and are, I’ll admit, overcome blubbing and blushing. God bless you Bordello folk.


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