SMOKEY BASTARD - TALES FROM THE WASTELAND
CD. Bomber Music.

Pogue Mahone! Here’s a frantic slab of folk-punk that is as down ‘n’ dirty as you would hope, and manages to bring a slice of originality to a genre that isn’t exactly flooded, but certainly has its fair share of legends.

This doesn’t feel like a punk album with the odd fiddle or desperate attempts at Irishness from a bunch of born ‘n’ bred Americans; neither does it seem to be the work of folkies who’ve decided to go for the punk dollar. Instead, it’s got a more original – I won’t say authentic – feel to it. Willing to mix it up – Mongrel throws a spot of Russian folk into the mix just for the hell of it, and then pauses for a bass-driven rest – and continually lively, Smokey Bastard inevitably feel like a band you’d rather be watching live than listening to on CD. But slap this on at a party, and you’ll probably have to hide the breakables as your guests leap about with abandon.

At times – and they’ll probably hate to hear this – the album seems to owe as much to prog-folk as punk; My Son John could be a Steeleye Span outtake, a traditional folk track played a capella. This is followed by the instrumental Mong Some Hoof, which is a ferocious fiddle and mandolin battle that is irresistible.

Elsewhere, the album takes on snippets of gypsy punk (Yuppie Dracula), US-style pop punk (Aspirations, I Have Some) and whiskey-soaked drunken balladry (Bad Reception). It ends with a lively cover of Abba’s Mamma Mia – and while ‘ironic’ punk covers are a dime a dozen, this one’s better than most.

In the end, this is a bunch of first-rate musicians belting out some first rate English roots music, liberally smeared with a foul mouthed punk attitude. Who are you to resist?

DAVID FLINT

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