The Brute Chorus - 'Chateau'

Mardy four-piece The Brute Chorus sound like bluesy cotton-pickers transported by fairytale pumpkin to a skiffle party in a garage: these boys might reside in London but their music heralds from the rural dirt of their provincial origins. It’s pretty glorious to behold, too. ‘Chateau’ evolves from heartbeating bass into the drunken stutters of guitar over filthy string bass, exploding into vocal fury as the Brutes lyrically conjure a nightmare nursery tale before swaggering back to brood, like a lover scorned, in the dark corners of the castle. 

‘The Cuckoo and The Stolen Heart’ confirms the band’s gift for ingenious name giving whilst moving musically up-tempo.  A growling Kazoo introduces a blues band complete with hillbilly banjo that titters away through dizzy rounds of 8 bar blues.  Meanwhile vocalist James Steel and featured artist Tigs spin yarns and spit accusations of absorbing folk-intrigue.  The Brute Chorus are dirty drunken troubadours etching out an overdue remedy to the sugar-sick, mindlessly slick pop fodder of our spurious musical age with the strut-thump of jutting garage pop genius.