It’s a funny thing. Sometimes it takes a while to fully appreciate a concept. It might be obtuse or complicated, too subtle or merely contrived. But, in the middle of a tumultuous set from The Lovely Eggs, it duly arrived like a half full plastic pint glass scudding the back of the cranium… PEOPLE ARE TWATS! Followed shortly by the refreshing lager shower of realisation… this is bloody BRILLIANT!
Husband and wife duo Holly Ross and David Blackwell are from Lancaster and they’re currently scoring somewhere around zero on the “fucks given” scale. “We don’t play music to please you,” Holly informs the audience, “we play because we love it.” To which David adds, “and we don’t do bloody encores either!”.
Playing the entirety of their new album This Is Eggland, presumably a pun on the Shane Meadows series, there’s enough effing and jeffing to satisfy any devotees of that particular oeuvre. But, it’s the searing riffage and cataclysmic drumming, chaotically but precisely wrapped around lyrics that are sharper than a sherbet lemon, that’s utterly joyous.
After it’s hammered down in Edinburgh all day, the audience are shoehorned into the Bongo Club to bursting point. Yet, even subjected to a seven foot ceiling limit, view restricting pillars in the middle of the room and a seizure inducing strip light show, the duo divide and conquer them for fun.
Their music is disarmingly straightforward and to the point. Two minute punk daggers like I Shouldn’t Have Said That or throwback indie rock on I’m With You are given plenty onstage with David looking like all the Ramones at once and Holly throwing rock shapes with her low slung Fender Jag. It’s enough to have Courtney Love chucking in the flannel. There’s even time for one audience member to burst into tears. It’s wholly understandable.
The new music has been supplemented with a rag bag of baffling psych add ons, whooshing and grinding weirdness to sit beside jackhammer power chords and Holly’s contemptuous vocal. It’s damned exciting. It’s very funny. It should be on the National Health.
It’s also breathless. After what seems like a blisteringly short set and a frantic final freak out of Would You Fuck, it’s house lights up. True to their word, away they go. Job done.
Happily, after pounding the beat for twelve years, The Lovely Eggs have continued to find mainstream support in the shape of a Marc Riley session in February and continue their tour until 10 November. Christ knows what’ll happen by the time folk start sauntering around the streets of Morecambe wrapped in a “Fuck It” football scarf. Available to buy at the merch stall. Pawn your Granny for a ticket.