from Bursting (exploded), released October 24, 2016
Hello

This is peter, chris (brother of peter) and dan who writes words then sings them (but not on this) and sometimes makes peculiar noises on our tracks with electronics.

We look a little bit like this:

youtu.be/djFsDtprEVk (Farming)

and this

youtu.be/D0RzfyKG4kM (Shaken Off)

and those are the only times we’ve appeared in our videos.

Well, me and chris are bodies only in this short one:

youtu.be/O9KQbxgXhV0

Nice to meet you.

I cannot share what we smell like on the internet, sadly. Just think smoked paprika and butter with a hint of oregano. And the abscence of shoe polish. Add a hint of burning nylon.

As for what we sound like, chris moves through a room like an disrespectful elephant, since he was a child, and I move through a room like a localised area of silence - I might qualify as a poltergeist amongst unobservant people. No idea about Dan having never met him. He’s only in Brixton and I’ve known him for about 17 years but we like the fact we have never met, so we don’t plan to. This plan goes for you too.

We’ll meet one day by accident. Perhaps.

I met a hero once like that.

Been to a London gig with a friend visiting from Canada and at the end the entire place was empty - all gone home or upstairs talking to the shitty band (no interest in that). There was one other person at the far side of the gig area wearing a ridiculous pin striped suit and scribbling on a writing pad. Like a cartoon suit. He looks interesting. I went over. We got talking. What do you like to do he said. I like writing - I’m slowly getting there.
He said, “who’s your favourite author?”.
I said, “Robert Rankin - I LOVE his sci-fi that isn’t sci fi - it still has pints in it and sandwiches and it’s just a slightly altered reality to ours.”. And he said, “Well, thank you, I AM Robert Rankin.” And I met up with him the weekend after in Brighton and we got gloriously drunk. He is a very interesting man. He told me an anecdote about trying to get a sculpture made for a book cover which ends (the anecdote) with the man in the sex-aids shop saying, “bondage teapot?! Get out of my fucking shop!”. So he ended up making his own bondage teapot.