“Here we go again, up and down at 2am” screechesHedrons lead singer Tippi on Bad Charm and aren’t youjust desperate to join her in the back room of someskanky Camden pub with the floor sticking to yourConverse trainers and your hair dripping with lager?If the answer’s “no” you’re either truly mad, orgrown-up. It’s up to you to decide which is worse.
If you’ve been frequenting musicOMH.com over the pastfew months, you may have noticed something. I bloodylove The Hedrons. They won me over somewhere towardsthe middle/end of last year with a single that gave aaway a free badge while imploring me (and you andanyone else who was listening) in a poptasticallypunky way to Be My Friend. Who in their right mindcould resist?
And not only because they have a drummer calledSoup (although isn’t that reason enough on its own?Just think how much better that is than having adrummer called plain old Dave or Gary) but simplybecause their songs are fun, furious, full ofinfectious energy, killer riffs and a shoutygirltasticness not seen around these parts sinceKenickie recorded The Skateboard Song. Close your eyesat any point throughout this album and you can imaginethem pogoing up and down on a tiny stage, leaning overthe audience and being everything a rock star shouldbe even though they’re barely out of school uniform.
The anticipation built up by brilliant single afterbrilliant single seemed good enough, but the albummanages to surpass this, from the moment it openswith the familiar Heatseeker through Couldn’t LeaveHer Alone, which is, at just two minutes 38 secondslong, the perfect punk anthem and has a killer riff toboot. Exactly half of the tracks on One More Won’tKill Us come in under the three minute mark, and withonly one, the final track What Am I To Do, lastinglonger than four, each one is a short, sharpbite-sized chunk of what music should be.
Naysayers will no doubt make noises about nothingdesperately original, Polly Styrene and X-RaySpex and Helen Love, but just leave themalone and sneer at them from the other side of thedancefloor because they don’t know what they’remissing. They’re probably all Scott Matthewsfans anyway.
If you need any more convincing (is my word notgood enough for you?) just take a look atthe endorsements they’re flaunting on their pressrelease: everyone from Kerrang! to the NME to theDaily Telegraph loves them. Which means that not only canthey cheer you up and make you dance with theirinfectious punk energy but they can also ensure worldpeace and unite Middle England into a joyous,rifftastic moshpit in which Tippi Hedron will beQueen, Soup will be Minister for Ace Drumming and Iwill be beaming at the side of the stage, proudlydisplaying my little Hedrons button badge, smug in theknowledge that I was listening to their singles andtheir album way back when.
Remember, for reasons of conspiracy that are me toknow and you to wonder about, the more Hedrons singlesthere are in the world, the less Scott Matthewsrecords there will be. You Have Been Warned.