Stranger Son of WB (nattily abbreviated to SSOWB) are apparently from Manchester, a city who's towering grey infernal shops & terminal drizzle forces folk to make occasionally excellent music. They've got this one sided 12" called 'Engine' which is quite brilliant. It's the culmination of years of listening to allsorts of things Factory related but ends up sounding like New Fast Automatic Daffodils on crystal meth. The cowbell embellished frantic off-beat drums starts things off nicely before this this hoofing Lancastrian bellow hots things up, stepping onto this relentless & propulsive level with a swirling, eerie keyboard stolen off a record by The Wake and a pinching manic bass line that'd kick your cock off it's so low slung. So it's a total floor filler, stuffed with energy & authentic punk funk attitude but sounds remarkably fresh rather than just a pastiche. watch out for these chaps I'd say.....Like the white ink stamped die cut, it's well designer.
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What their label says...
Stranger Son of WB weigh in with ‘Engine’, their debut 12” for Manchester’s new White Box imprint with, well, possibly the greatest primal burst of raw, no-nonsense energy crammed into one song, that we’ve heard in a long time! Seriously, this song is so perversely catchy that we can’t believe our ears. Three minutes of hardened pop; lean and taut, a disco beat with teeth, a synth-pop music to terrify the kids back onto the dancefloor. A snarling, ‘aggro-man’ vocal intimidates, backed by a super-tight band, so hell-bent on delivery that you can imagine them staring you down as you pay in to the dank venue space this music is being blasted out from…maybe you should stand back a bit…
This one is for fans of The Fall, the early Factory Records releases, the jerky sounds of New York post-punk disco-not-disco innovators like ESG, The Contortions and Liquid Liquid, all fuelled by lethal amounts of Suicide-style energy. Limited to 300 copies, this one-sided 12” will not be in stock for long. Hell of a release to start the year with!
‘Engine’ is lifted from Stranger Son’s album, ‘Einstein’s Getaway’, to be released on White Box on January 26th.
In Stranger Son of WB’s own words…
“Spit on that machine. Hey spit on that machine. It’s the petulant me you see, the only one I could be, when your life is plugged inside a factory. ‘Engine’ - Homage to factories on riverbanks. Initially too raw to touch, sealed inside a lead-lined mind, now alive behind clear-plate screen, a three minute document of a five year episode of machines that hammer like boxing gloves. Drums like lathes shave metallic spits. Keyboards cut straight like glass through grit. Bass beats a precedent, hurts like an accident; a sawn off chin, a press driver asleep, his hand in the gate, you fill in the rest…
The vocal is fresh and avoids the opportunity to label those dead from the neck to the hair - Like the former WB’s, their list was many. These WB’s were assembled just two weeks before, applied ‘work-like’ practice - this was the music made. Engine. The sections drive like air pockets trapped inside steam trains awaiting a crush, in gut stripper, oversized at all points to peak just after the moment hasn’t gone. The correct place you may say, or if it was any nearer, it would be wrong.
No slow haunch politic viz. frog on frog debate. Its fast man like this, make records to step towards the tick in yer feet. Classical clash ego machine vs. skin and sonically, will bring to those who follow Movement New Order, Damo’s Can, debut Suicide and pistons that bang. So go out celebrate for the song is get fresh, and the beat is good, a celebration to bring heroes from mud. A triumph for those fella’s and their partners who inadvertently suffered under the misery of being. That would be to play the fucking record...”