“While the swamp settles in and the mud’s warm and easy, I forget, shit, I’ve actually DONE stuff. I kick myself for ignoring the joy that I’ve found creating and making and producing…”
“There’s a newness, a carelessness, a free-wheeling nonchalance, there’s a touch of a proto-punk attitude…”
Rats On The Run has been growing. And following the announcement of a new writing collective, it’s a pleasure to say we’re involved.
“To the labels, the artists, the indies, the late night keyboard warriors, the shy bedroom writers that sent out their first tracks….”
“Relentlessly clever and smart… But maybe sometimes, just one time, I want my bleak future served… bleak.”
“What comes is a stampede of blues, of dirtbomb dry tracks made of squalor and howl where quiet is a hard thing to find…”
“Every part of pop’s formulas fall into place and there’s barely a hint of intention. Accidents really can happen, and like here it sounds best when they do.”
They live in a haze of accidentally anthemic self-made and self-assured angst, where webs and threads of Bona Drag and Juju clean-jangled guitars (from Morrissey and Banshees respectively) weave like a network of nerves up and through.
“40 years worth of love and half blind adoration has gathered us here to sing to hymns from ‘The Crack’; The Ruts ’79 debut album. Thick with punk’s grit and gristle and dub-reggae tricks it’s a head above pure protest thrash.”