Under 18s must be accompanied by an adult
«First lines are important. A strong incipit should command attention instantly. But there are strong opening gambits, and then there's the brash hilarity of people are twats. Difficult to argue with, huh? The Lovely Eggs are That Sort Of Band.
Naturally, their splendidly oddball lyrics are the hook, incorporating subjects as universally important as obsessive worrying, crappy jobs and agreeing to another pint even though it's late and you're up early for work the next day. No-one likes a smartarse, of course, but these engagingly witty songs are packed full of enough punchlines and razor-sharp non-sequiturs to have Half Man Half Biscuit quaking in their Dukla Prague away kits. Like the Wirralian wonders, the Eggs are too clever and too damn good to be written off as a comedy act.
The music itself is pretty great, in any case. There are splashes of rickety old indie, a dash of US punk rock and even a whiff of cuddlecore bands like Cub, resulting in a sound that's frequently off-kilter yet never unsettling. Holly Ross' wide-eyed delivery helps, of course her insistent yelp on the garage rush of 'Don't Look At Me (I Don't Like It)' is more paint-stripper than polish, and weirdly beguiling with it.
The Lovely Eggs cut directly to the same part of your brain that knows that finding a forgotten fiver is better than spending a fortune, that Emo Philips is funnier than Bill Hicks, and that Shonen Knife understand pop music better than Kings Of Leon ever possibly can. They'll make you grin and laugh so hard that you'll spray every mouthful of beer over the back of whoever's unfortunate enough to stand in front of you, before that guy turns round, nods in understanding and cackles right back atcha. Not convinced? Hey, every story's gotta start somewhere.» The Fly