Post War Years

So I have been checking out this new band, Post War Years for a while now. A few of you Nottingham people might know them from when they played just over a year ago up at the Social for Care In The Community. I think a good starting point for sound is Mystery Jets, though this lot are more experimental with big synth lines rolling through over tight, angular guitar rhythms.

I caught them again recently at Erol Alkan’s Trash replacement night Durr which was a pretty good show and they have clearly improved a lot in the last seven or so months.  Anyway, I swear that either they have written a load of new songs since I last saw them in September or they’ve developed a speed habit and a nervous twitch to boot.  Whichever way their live show has developed in leaps and bounds since the first and last times I’ve seen them. Coming across like Foals if they’d spent their youth listening to The Blood Brothers more angular works and drinking way, way too much coffee. This is, of course is good thing and results in songs so sharp standing near the stage becomes a scary proposition.  

After the first song finishes a more traditional set up appears as up until this point they’ve been playing with two basses, a Roland sample box and a drummer.  Adding guitars into the equation simply adds to the complexity of the song writing, the angular jerkiness of the music and ups the noise levels even higher. Two songs in and I am one happy young man, even after a nightmare train journey back from Cambridge which meant I nearly missed the gig.  

About two thirds of the way through the set the front-man seems to cut his finger open and a kind young lady in the audience reaches into her bag and passes him a plaster which to put on his injured finger.  He quips that it’s not rock and roll unless blood is streaming from the head down to your arms and over your t-shirt, but I disagree.  What’s rock and roll about ruining your equipment with your own blood when you’re “up and coming”?  

Things all carry on as, what I guess can only be described as normal for the rest of the set, until they start to wrap up the set and pull out the big guns. “You and Me Both” and “The Black Morning” both get the lethargic, post-bank holiday crowd raising hands in the air, singing along and dancing.

Simply, this youthful bunch make great use of their obvious talent, frequently swapping between guitars, sample, synths and keys and utilising tri-vocal harmonies.  I feel that it’s not going to be long before this band breaks through the realms of merely being a god band and does something truly special as Foals (not an ideal, but just a comparison) have recently. If you get the chance, go and see them play as you might just discover something rather exciting.

James Hoste

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