Reading is a strange place indeed.
It used be a market town; the county town of Berkshire, in the Thames Valley of southern England.
Then, in 1840, the Railway came.
Fast forward to 2019 and £15 billion has seen London - a city to our east - attempt to annex us and drag a load of bumpkins, smackheads and IT gandus kicking and screaming, into The Metropolis.
Reading will appear on Harry Beck's iconic Tube map for the first time in HISTORY.
The tension this has created is palpable. The place is being ripped apart at the seams and it seems...? Worth stickin' around for, frankly. Someone's gotta do it.
So, we've written in and recorded some of this tension.
It's included. It comes with it and you can have that one - take it with you.
YOU'VE HEARD IT ALL BEFORE
It's Human Beings VS. Concrete but this time it's personal.
And, personally record, we have. Many songs, set in Reading but you've been there. No, I mean, you've been there.
We've all been there. We're cosmo as fuck.
We've been to Hackney before and we know what a New Cross looks like; all Goldsmiths and New Look in the recently refurbished Elephant and Castle gyratory, so, we do get out sometimes.
Like I said, we're cosmo as fuck, cos it's Reading and we've got French and Caribbean and Czech in it, and in us, and, there are 8 of us - 4 musicians and 4 singers - and we're serious about grammar; we take everything personally but we don't give a fuck, cos it's only rock 'n' roll but Treve likes it, so, that probably makes it OK.
So, it's People VS Concrete. Mankind VS Technology.
We've all been there before but we didn't know what to do.
HUMAN BEINGS overcoming CONCRETE
Down trodden, we head down town, again, to get bed and bread and get down trodden again and kicked in the head, in Reading, again.
Well trodden, they kick in, and tread. They, blameless and many and homeless and plenty and down town, down Trodden, down and out and round again, in Reading. Reading-on-Thames.
There and here, we get by, and, bleak as the sky, our view is as far and as wide as the deep truth is, outside.
Where, truth be known, if we squint past the town, we'll see deer, where the hills fold into the clouds.
And, snow does fall, from year to year, and it doesn't always rain from here to here but then there's homelessness and grain and shame and drought and beer...
It doesn't come cheap - it's dear.
And, then one day it doesn't.
How long's BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY? About 6 minutes? Well, our song RAKE IT ALL IN is longer than that and, if you think about it, most successful pop songs have been around this length.
This 7 or so minute, dystopian, disco-house EPIC has been SLOW COOKING in the IDR oven for BLOODY AGES whilst we got very CARRIED AWAY writing other songs as well as this one. But, you can have it now because it's ready to come out. It's gone DING. As the years have passed since the lyrics were written, it seems odd how much worse things are now than they were then. If they were ever to be heard and understood as being in any way poignant, they are probably more so now than they were then, which seems a damn shame.
The WEAPONISATION OF SPACE sure fills a gaping, empty void. Call it Retro-Futurist Drab Pop; call it Radio Frequency Dream Pop if you must; call it what you will. You can have that one as well.
The idea here, was to write a song about as little as possible. Set in a stationery cupboard at the Royal Berks Hospital, the nights are long and the moon cuts a clean slice through everyone's patience.
We hope it's quite hopelessly successful in conveying almost nothing whilst not giving anything away and staying very quiet about its intentions all the while.
Welcome to our DANK FUTURE.