The Suicidal Birds are a troop of Dutch lunatics (two boys and two girls, to be precise) who take pride in their out dated amps, home-made pedals, drum machines and the fact that singer, Jessie, doesn't sing very well. The result is "punk blues with a rock n roll sauce", as in what might be the result of The White Stripes, Bis and Yeah Yeah Yeahs getting a gang of three-year-olds plastered at a sordid party and handing them a microphone and some saucepans to bang on. Or a drum machine to play with. And then watching them violently throwing up (see "Puke song"). Quirky.
Basically, if you don't care if the song has much of a tune and just want something to stomp to in a drunken haze then this is it. Shouty and shambolic in the most endearing way, you either get what they're trying to do or you don't. Personally, I think this is a lot of fun; tracks like the kooky "Crazy like a bird" to the all-out noisy pop of "Summersetsun" and experimental country of "Sad song" may be songs only a mother could love- not to mention Dinosaur Jr. who have invited the quartet to support them a few times- but this is the sort of general belligerence the music world should embrace before it all gets somewhat too stale. Rock on, Tommy.

TEEVO- A lost trail of thought

Teevo are the sort of band whose promo photograph has all four members standing against a brick wall with their hands in their pockets. But at least they are finding something funny in said picture. Before it all got a bit grim. Because this quartet ready to explode from "lovely" Colchester should not be dismissed as just another bunch of misspent youths with guitars and nothing better to do.
Though it is true that they are definitely one for what could be the Nu-slacker generation, sprung from the loins of The Pixies, Sonic Youth, etc., whilst mixing a healthy dollop of early Nirvana in opening track "Lost and found" and The Vines in the melodic-then-scary-then-melodic sulker "Hidden in plain sight" (my two highlights). It is also evident that this, their third demo, delivers more angst than you can shake a stick at. Or an ickle angry prepubescent fist. But all jokes aside, I can finally celebrate that now I have one CD I will actually not get bored of listening to and promise to use it every morning to do star-jumps to in my long-johns to keep me warm this winter, continue to do so until the summer by which time I expect them to be huge.

Anna C