Welcome to the debut album from fresh new Sheffielders Best Friends, setting their stall out with ten tracks of guitar stuff. Hot. Reckless. Totally Insane. almost recalls the sound of the mid-2000s indie wave, except with perhaps a little more in the garage and fuzz departments. Released by the FatCat label.
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Best Friends are a bunch of racketeers from Sheffield, Yorkshire who should not under any circumstances be confused with Best Fwends. They make ten unpretentious slabs of indie rock like the sort yer dad used to make after a day down t’pit.
It’s hard to believe now but even I was young once and if I were twenty years younger then I’d be pogo-ing along to opener ‘Fake Spit’ . Whilst ‘Fake Spit’ has all the energy and snap of The Cribs, ‘Holy Mountain’ has the guitar pattern from The Cult’s ‘She Sells Sanctuary’. ‘Cold Shapes’ has vocals that will only be truly appreciated by the singers mother but staying perfectly in tune is not the aim of the game here. Being from Sheffield, a bit of the Arctic Monkeys northern grit rock is bound to slip through and it can be heard throughout this album -- but Best Friends are much more of an indie rock party proposition. On ‘Dr Mario’ they recall olde grey hairs the Wedding Present and closer ‘Orange Juice’ proves they can do melancholy as well as bluster.
It’s a whole heap of happy, fuzzy indie rock fun that yes I’m now too old for but when they hit a skewed riff as ‘Shred til You’re Dead’ you can almost taste the sweat emanating from what I presume is their legions of fans at their blitzkrieg concerts. Sounds like they are all having a blast.
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- Hot. Reckless. Totally Insane. by Best Friends
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