Henry's Funeral Shoe - Everything's For Sale
'With a fistful of fire and a mouthful of everything
I jumped from the pulpit to bullwhip the choir' - It's A Long Way
These two Clifford brothers hail from the fertile valleys of South Wales as opposed to the swampy lands of Louisiana or mud-flats of the Mississippi delta but plough pretty deeply and adeptly the fields of the two man blues set-up you may not expect from the lands more noted for indie pop and awful emo pap. Something of child prodigies it seems but whatever the whichway at least they've either transgressed, or quarantined, their stated roll-call of same old tried n' tested by tired chancers influences such as The Beatles and The Who. Tinges of these names are retained in the dirtily clean, slightly effected, sound, that, while slippery, warm and fuzzy doesn't cast them in the same beserkeley league as The Immortal Lee County Killers or other Alive label lunatic bingers like Left Lane Cruiser, but in the more sedate settings of Black Keys and Buffalo Killers. Singing guitar-toter Aled is possessed at times with Jim Morrison's thunder-gullet, French knicker-filleting roar, though, alas, it does often stray into the strangled larnyx of that berk from Reef. They may struggle to gain a foothold in the quagmire of the coagulated crowds of stripped-down slink merchants, though tracks like the slide-pounding hammer of Empty Church, the salaciously salivating sermonator It's A Long Way and top of the class roll around the mountain dancefloor dynamo Second Hand Prayer show they should be sufficiently equipped to negotiate such terrain and strive for that old fabled first rung, especially in a world where the egregious Jet have made a comeback.