The
Strypes are the most important band in music today. They swagger, they’re
cocky, arrogant and incredibly young.
Live,
this four-piece from Cavan, Ireland, is incendiary. The audience was taunted,
pummelled and whipped into a frenzy by the relentless, sweat-drenched force in
front of them.
Singer
Ross Farrelly wore shades and a four-button tartan suit sharp enough to draw
blood. If you can’t do that when you’re 16, you never can.
The
Strypes will be accused of being revivalist, the illegitimate offspring of
Keith Relf, Lee Brillaux, Slim Harpo and Ray Davies.
Nonsense.
The Strypes are about here and now. Don’t believe the hype and focus on how
good they are.
Guitarist
Josh McClorey referred to Sheffield as being ‘home to the best band in the
world’.
If
that’s true, Alex Turner needs to have a nervous glance over his shoulder, at
the attitude-driven chainsaw that is fast approaching.
For if
The Strypes stay together and maintain momentum, they have the weapons to
destroy all in front of them.
It’s
impossible to imagine The Clash at the 100 Club in 1977 were more potent than
this.
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