Goy Boy McIlroy_FI

Goy Boy McIlroy
“Black Glove”

Goy Boy McIlroy

Let it be known that we shall never, ever, from this day forthhence, drink on an empty stomach. We can’t DO this shit anymore. It means that we’re in bed by 11pm because we just feel super tired and super stupid for being seemingly unable to hold even the most basic of conversations – such was the case during our attendance at the second-ever Amazing Radio curatory thingy at the Elgar Room (right on, Elgar) situated in the glamourous surroundings of The Royal Albert Hall last night. Embers were playing, as were CHAMPS. It was great. We think. Put it bluntly, we had a pretty good day leading up to this, and so we got a little bit huggy and a little bit nonsensical. We must have asked about 20 or so people whether they knew the answer to the ongoing saga of whether you can describe a band that sounds like Alt J without actually saying Alt J. We’re pretty sure we annoyed the fuck out of at least half of them. The other problem with not eating before having a beer or four is that you feel like fucking shite the next day. But that won’t stop us from booming it up at both Club Killing Moon at The Monarch followed by the mighty Duologue at XOYO tonight. Sure, we may get sleepy. But we gots a shitload of Red Bull in the fridge, and we are not afraid to use it. Getting us pumped up in the most necessary way is Darlington (doesn’t that just sound like a nice word, and thus a nice place to be from?) foursome Goy Boy McIlroy and their tub-thumpingly boomed up party’n’roll tune Black Glove. To elaborate; this is like the bluesy rock bands of late that seem to be on the up – your Family Rains, your Royal Bloods – but with a differentiation in terms of vocal delivery and musical construct that perhaps makes this stand out that little bit more than being cited as the next Black Keys or White Stripes. That’s not a diss to the aforementioned by any means; you know we’ve got love for them both. But, yeah, you can kinda see what we mean, or if you simply cannot, perhaps recent support slots with the likes of psych-rockers Temples may go some way to illustrate just what the fuck we’re talking about. Cool. By way of actual musical comparisons, lets go for something that exists in and around the sounds of Nick Cave, The Fall, Grass House, TV On The Radio and Interpol. Word.

Goy Boy McIlroy – Black Glove

Bit more. BIT. MORE.


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