TRACK REVIEW: Sleaford Mods - Elocution

TRACK REVIEW:

Sleaford Mods

Elocution

9.8/10

The track, Elocution, is available from:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhMXuHV0JUM

GENRES:

Post-Punk/Electro-Punk

ORIGIN:

Nottingham, U.K.

LABEL:

Rough Trade

The album, Spare Ribs, is available here:

https://www.roughtrade.com/gb/sleaford-mods/spare-ribs

RELEASE DATE:

15th January, 2021

TRACKLISTING:

The New Brick

Shortcummings

Nudge It (ft. Amy Taylor)

Elocution

Out There

Glimpses

Top Room

Mork n Mindy (ft. Billy Nomates)

Spare Ribs

All Day Ticket

Thick Ear

I Don’t Rate You

Fishcakes

__________

LET’S get down to business…

when it comes to Sleaford Mods! There is a lot to cover and explore as they released the album, Spare Ribs, on Friday (15th January). It is have gained them the best reviews of their career and, at a very bad and troubled time for the world, the duo have managed to articulate a lot of that frustration…but they have also crafted an album that provides some sense of catharsis and escape. I will investigate a few different themes before I get to reviewing a song from Spare Ribs. I wanted to go back to the time where Jason Williamson met Andrew Fearn met. In this interview from Loud and Quiet, we hear about that coming together:

“Andrew Fearn, the other half of the Nottingham-based group, is responsible for the music, usually comprised of some form of a chugging, spitting beat that switches genres from song to song, from jungle to grime, hip-hop to gritty punk lo-fi. Together they have forged a bewildering but beguiling concoction, as Fearn tells me, sitting at Beacons Festival 2014, held on England’s Yorkshire Dales.

“We were a happy accident,” he says. “I was playing some beats at this night that was mainly a fairly motley crew of noise fans. They didn’t really like what I was playing, they would ignore me, it was just that the guy who put the night on was my mate, so I was like, ‘sod you lot, I’m just going to play my beats’, and then he [Jason] was like, ‘oh, I like your beats’. It really was two things just slapped together. Then we found similarities between us as friends as well as differences, and it was those things that made it work.”

Williamson says of the meeting: “When I first met him he was playing this brilliant music and looking nonplussed. It was a winner”.

A lot of credit and focus goes the way of Williamson (and quite right) but, because Fearn does fewer interviews and is not at the forefront, some overlook his invaluable contributions. I think his music and lead is very much instrumental to Sleaford Mods’ success; the fuel and kick that Williamson needs to pen the lyrics. An exceptional producer and hugely innovative composer, I think that Andrew Fearn is one of the finest musical talents we have in the country. I want to spend some time with Jason Williamson and his background. (I am going to discuss how Sleaford Mods are seen as working-class heroes and how they are perceived by the media). One hears Williamson sing, and we get this image of a man of the people singing in quite a political and for-the-masses kind of manner. In an interview with The Independent of 2019 (when promoting the album, Eton Alive), we discover more about Williamson’s situation has changed since Sleaford Mods took off:

“Success has made Williamson less angry about not having any money, he admits. Now that he lives in middle-class West Bridgford in Nottingham, with his wife Claire and two children Flora, seven, and Beau, three, he’s been asking himself, “Have I become the person that I rail against?” This self-accusatory tone finds its way onto the album in “O.B.C.T.”, in which the singer sees himself driving past an Oliver Bonas shop in a Chelsea tractor. But the aggression is still there, and it comes out when we talk about Brexit, and “what this Leave campaign has done to people’s psychology and how other people see us”. Sleaford Mods grew up in the rabidly Brexit heartland of Lincolnshire: Williamson in Grantham, where 60 per cent of people voted to leave, Fearn in Saxilby (62 per cent). Williamson was in Germany recently, he says, and “they can’t get their heads around it at all – they’re like, ‘Why are you still getting f**ked around by a bunch of posh b***ards?’”

PHOTO CREDIT: Simon Parfrement

Williamson, as people never tire of pointing out, shares a home town with Margaret Thatcher. His mum had jobs in Boots and his dad worked for the council before becoming an ambulanceman. They lived on an estate and bought their council house during the Thatcher years. The young Williamson avoided bullying by making people laugh, and was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz (1939) and Roman epics starring Victor Mature, such as Demetrius and the Gladiators (1954).

His parents’ separation when he was 10 had a big impact. “It was horrible,” he says. “I still remember the day when my mum decided. My dad took us to Birmingham to our cousin’s for the weekend to give my mum time to think about it. He was a serial womaniser. In the end, she’d just had enough.”

His father took it personally, he says, and seemed to resent Jason and his sister afterwards. “We took it really badly. You don’t want ’em splitting up, even if the relationship isn’t great, they’re still there, getting up every morning, making you some breakfast”.

To link into this information, I want to also look at where Andrew Fearn came from and how he started out. They are kindred spirits and brothers when it comes to the music but, in looking at their backgrounds and musical routes, there are some differences. In that interview from Loud and Quiet, we discover more about Fearn’s past:

“Fearn’s background is more rooted in the glory days of Nottingham. “Nineties Nottingham was like Portlandia,” he says. “It really was. It was normal to pierce your penis and so on; it was cool to be unemployed; it was the time to drop out and I was completely one of those people that slipped through the net.”

Musically, however, it’s been more electronic and hip-hop experimentations. “I’ve been an electronic musician all my life, since I was sixteen, trying to make a cool Aphex Twin album or something, or something popular in that field, and it’s come in dribs and drabs but it’s never really happened, so I suppose, in a way, nobody making that kind of music has ever come forward and started working with somebody like Jason…”.

Before coming on to a new subject, I just want to spend some time exploring the build-up to the excellent Eton Alive. I think every album of theirs is extraordinary, yet 2019’s Eton Alive was a big step - and, to me, the best album they had put out to that point. I think a lot of the themes and angers explored on that album are present on Spare Ribs. One might ask how much the world has changed in the time between Eton Alive arriving and Spare Ribs being written. It is clear that Williamson and Fearn are on incredible form! I just want to drop in some information from that interview in The Independent. We learn how hard Sleaford Mods have worked – and how far they have progressed as a unit:

“Sleaford Mods have worked f**king hard to change that picture, though. Their violent sound is so stripped down, it’s perfect. Andrew Fearn provides rudimentary beats, Williamson gets in your face with relentless spokenshouted diatribes. They’ve toured constantly, released four studio albums, one live album and a set of Eps since Williamson first collaborated with Fearn on Wank (2012). Their new album Eton Alive is the first release on their own label, Extreme Eating. It’s a storming return after 2017’s English Tapas. Part progression, part throwback, it has a furious energy that recalls 2014’s Mercury Prize-nominated Divide and Exit, but on some songs, Fearn’s beats have become languorous and Williamson sings. The 48-year-old has been working hard to promote it, too, in a series of very funny Twitter ads. One has him bagging up dogs**t as he talks about the release date (23 February, in case you don’t fancy watching)”.

I want to bring things a little more up to now, because one of the things that has irked and moved Sleaford Mods most is the pandemic and, specifically, how this Government has (mis)handled it. I think a lot of other songwriters feel the same; it has provided fuel for their songwriting as they look for answers and stand slack-jawed at the seeming ineptitude and cluelessness.

When Williamson spoke with NME in May last year, he was asked about how he is coping with the current situation and what he makes of it all:

“Hi Jason! How are you finding self-isolation?

“We’re over the shock of it all. I’m starting to get over the absolute tedium of the Government as well, to be honest. I’m just not bothering with the news. Occasionally I check in to see what idiocy they’ve come out with, but only for five minutes because I can’t be arsed with it. [Boris Johnson] should be held to account for [the Government’s handling of coronavirus]. It’s a fucking disgrace. We deserve some revenge.”

What do you want to happen?

“A court of law? An inquiry? Charges against? Or disgrace, because what the politicians are after is glory. If the country turns on them, they’re not gonna get that respect from their peers. They get eaten by their own, don’t they?

In a recent article, you claimed that ‘clapping for carers’ – whereby the public applauds care workers for looking after us during the coronavirus crisis – “justifies inaction” against the Government’s poor treatment of the NHS. Does the same go for people raising money for the NHS as though it’s a charity?

“Well, it’s a hard one, isn’t it, because they need money. But it’s the Government’s responsibility to hand over money to the NHS – we shouldn’t be raising charity for it. That’s just fucking stupid. But at the same time if an organisation needs money desperately and the Government isn’t giving it to them, what are you gonna do? You can’t let people die at the roadside. But it does install the idea that the NHS is a dying animal that needs people’s charity and then – oh, look! – it’s gone: ‘Oh, fuck! Oh, damn. Bastard!’ And enter privatisation”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Roger Sargent

I think one of the brilliant things (among many) when it comes to Sleaford Mods is how they can take aim at politics and those who are charged with running the world; they also drill down to the numbness, banality and wonderful oddities of modern life – experiences that we all witness during our ordinary lives. It is that blend of the universal and the intimate that makes their music so engaging, layered and stirring. I want to source from an interview from The Quietus of January this year. They asked if one of the songs – relating to the former Chief Adviser to the Prime Minister – will seem irrelevant or less relatable in time to come:

“Do you worry that lyrics to a track like 'Shortcummings' might end up dating Spare Ribs?

JW: I'd already been thinking about Dominic Cummings, especially when I read his blog trying to recruit weirdos to Number 10. I thought of all these aristos going [adopts posh accent] 'yes yes Dominic do come in' and how mad that was, and then I read a bit of his manifesto, oh God, Jesus Christ. You can see Cummings' need to apply his own ideology onto society to anybody that's in charge. Will the lyrics date? The way that society carries on we seem to be repeating ourselves, it's more a question of what kind of jacket the crisis is going to wear, as opposed to the content of the crisis. Everything seems to be very familiar, in the sense of the different levels of oppression that we experience. I just feel like I'm expendable, and obviously those on lower wages are going to get fucked about more than me, currently, but you get the impression that we're all potentially expendable collateral - spare ribs, so to speak”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Charlie Hardy

Let’s just explore the political edge ands agenda of Sleaford Mods for a little longer. There is a lot of anger in their music but, rather than it being them aimlessly striking at the Government and shouting to anyone who will listen, there is a great deal of intelligence, inspiration and exceptional wordplay – all backed by Andrew Fearn’s fabulous music and production. I will explore the way Sleaford Mods are embodied, by some, as modern-day working-class warriors – linked to so many different bands and incorrectly and rigidly defined. In this interview from PopMatters, we discover more about Jason Williamson’s thinking and way of working:

“Williamson's call for humanism shouldn't be surprising since its implementation requires a high level of self-awareness and integrity, two values prominent in Sleaford Mods' career. Also, it's something that Williamson has had to deal with while the press tied them to the archetype of the working-class men who finally made it. "They turned me into a cliché," he tells PopMatters. "That is good for the press obviously, but pointless because everything I do is political."

As he speaks, you feel the weight of every word he chooses to talk about himself, careful to stay true to who he is. I wonder if it comes from his young infatuation for the mod subculture: "Stay true to myself, yes, but mainly it taught me to always be creative." I ask if he thinks that creativity, a phenomenon itself made from divergent thinking, is a political weapon. "Yes, completely," Williamson notes, "But then you enter the minefield of whether your creativity has any value. Or are you just going along with the norm, creative norm of saying 'the government is corrupt!' not actually really applying any serious thought to it.

"You should articulate the message," he adds. "Or [is it] just motivation in order to buy a nice house? You've got to think about it, it's got to have some content. The message has to be integral, it's got to be thought-provoking”.

It does seem that, as Sleaford Mods have taken off and released more albums, Williamson has become more political in his writing. Perhaps that is an unfortunate reflection of how politicians seem more impotent and infuriating today. I can definitely see other songwriters who were less political on previous albums engaging more with what is happening now and how the Government is leading the country. In an Irish Times interview, Jason Williamson provides his views on what it is to be English right now (the interview is from January this year):

“I’ve just been the same, mate. What defines me is what I see around me. Plus, as I’ve gotten older, I have become more politically aware. Anything that I find unpleasant in the political arena – and let’s face it, that’s everything, what with my country’s history and the way the government hasn’t been truthful to its citizens – is something of a continued inspiration to me.”

And continued conflict? “Yes, because right now it’s embarrassing to be English. I feel ashamed, frankly. There’s nothing to feel proud about being English. I was never a nationalist anyway, but I always used to feel lucky because I was born here. It always seemed to be a safe haven, a more advanced country. It is that in many respects, but what Brexit has shown us, to a certain degree, is the true nature of the English people”.

Linking into the political aspect of Sleaford Mods and how Williamson especially has become more focused on that side of things, we also see a lot of people and media sources hail the duo as the sound of the working-class today. I guess, as they are articulating frustrations felt by the working-classes, then many people will make that link. I feel Sleaford Mods are much broader and do not tie their mast to any particular social group or class. I don’t think that their music is aimed at anyone specific, as that would seem to alienate them from a lot of people. The incredible popularity and respect they hold ac ross the board and around the world proves that Williamson and Fearn are very much speaking to everyone!

PHOTO CREDIT: Alasdair McLellan

Returning to that interview with Loud and Quiet, and we discover how Sleaford Mods (Williamson) react to being seen as these working-class warriors:

“The ‘voice of the working class’ is a label thrust upon Sleaford Mods as frequently as the usual suspects of comparisons are (John Cooper Clarke, The Fall and so on). “I couldn’t name one album by The Fall. Rein ya black heavy knit sweaters in you fuckin fossils.” So Tweeted Sleaford Mods recently.

“People are quick to label you as ‘the voice of working Britain,’” says Williamson, “it’s bollocks. It’s just that’s the situation you’re in. I’m having no allegiance to anything. It’s just the situation you’re in,” he reiterates. “We don’t see ourselves as the voices of the working class or anything like that.”

If Sleaford Mods do represent anything, though, it’s perhaps the fact that there is no collective voice of the working class, right now. They represent, and project, the disparity, the fractured nature of Britain and the shattered ideal that there is a communal underbelly waiting to revolt. Fearn says: “British people don’t challenge the government enough; they don’t stick together enough against the Government, unlike a lot of other European countries”.

Just linking into this and, in the PopMatters interview, Williamson spoke about working-class bands. He made some great observations:

“Getting back on the clichés in the music scene, Williamson expresses concerns about bands taking advantage of working-class values. "It's really hard to pinpoint," Williamson observes, "because [the brands] wanted to be working class, but if you are not doing anything interesting, who cares what class you come from? But at the same time, it would be nice to see more working-class acts talking working-class stuff, talking about stuff from the street. And you do get a lot of that with English music in the sense of hip-hop and grime, which is kind of the hotbed home for working-class music at the moment in England. But it would be nice to get some more out in indie music."

"Bands up in the northern area of England, doing just middle of the road guitar-y stuff -- it's all about where your antennae is," Williamson says of bands emerging from the same mindset. "Sometimes that can transcend class. But if you're doing the work or selling a working-class message in an interesting way, that really appeals to me."

I point out that it can also be a problem of class voyeurism. "I do agree there is a lot of voyeurism," Williamson agrees. "Actually, there's a fine line between voyeurism and observation. Yes, it's definitely prevalent".

Just before I move on to a new topic, I want to end with an interview from Gigwise from a couple of days ago. I think there are a lot of working-class bands that are a bit stuffy and angry regarding middle-class musicians. Perhaps, there is a sense they are not as important and ‘real’ as they are. Jason Williamson talked about class differences and how he feels about the way middle-class acts use language (in relation to working-class artists):

“Whatever they're doing at the minute is not working, you know, it's patronising,” Williamson says of others attempting to address Tory era policies and political discord.

“It's as if these people or bands just want to take on somebody else's experience because it's cooler, you know. But there are thousands of middle class musicians and creative people that are doing really good stuff,” he continues. “And I think that's because they think about it, and they connect with their place in the world.”

“I'm not talking about politically, but I'm just talking about the perception that they use language in an interesting way,” he says. “But a lot of these commercial acts [where] there's a lot of middle class accents that you just get that vibe. It’s just posturing. It's just lazy. And that's what I tried to get across in 'Nudge It'.”

Williamson has been engaged in a spat with contemporaries IDLES for a couple of years, in which class is something of a sore spot. He had complained to the press last year that the ostensibly middle-class Bristol band had impersonated angry working-class people”.

There are just a few things that I need to cover before I get down to some reviewing. I want to bring in an interview with The Quietus and a great question regarding masculinity and gender stereotypes. Andrew Fearn has an interesting perspective:

“Do you worry about these stereotypes of masculinity?

AF: I do, it's very dangerous. Bisexual men for example - it's there, and it's good that gay culture is starting to change. I remember in the 90s on dating sites like Gaydar bi men would be shunned, gay mens' profiles would say nasty things about them. Ultimately when are we all going to accept ourselves and each other, and stop making these different categories? When is the spectrum going to be fine enough for it not to matter what category you're in? I've got to say as well, and I know it's a bit of a dodgy movement, but this men's movement, there's a serious side to it - to be a straight man feels like it isn't allowed in this society, it's a taboo subject. Obviously you don't want to associate masculinity with being a dick, or being stubborn, or all these traits, but there's nothing wrong with being masculine”.

I am going to lump that previous section with a couple more about Sleaford Mods’ fascinating lyrics and how Jason Williamson has this unique and very arresting linguistic talent. I think other songwriters are quite basic and lack nuance when it comes to their words. Listen to Sleaford Mods’ music and one gets something far richer and intriguing! In the interview with The Independent, we discover more about Williamson’s songwriting:

“Williamson has an ear for the poetry of everyday speech. It’s a singular talent that can make something as simple as “who knew” on the song “Kebab Spider” sound like a chorus that has been sitting there like a pound coin on the pavement just waiting to be picked up. Despite his verbal dexterity, though, he left school early. “I got kicked out in April 1987,” he says. “I’d been caught trying to pierce my mate’s ear in the toilet. The headmaster was like, you’re s**t anyway, you may as well just go, don’t bother with exams. This is how bleak it was, f**king horrible.” He signed on for a while, briefly went back to college, dropped out, and worked in a factory making microwave meals for Marks & Spencer.

“I really did learn a lot about life there,” he says. It introduced him to unskilled labour, which he did for the next 20 odd years – “I did warehouse work, had a job as a chef in Little Chef, worked as a security guard, then moved into fashion retail – I was always into clothes – worked my way up to managerial positions in a couple of them, got the sack all the time.”

In between, still nursing dreams of Hollywood, he went back to college for three years to take GCSEs and a theatre studies A-level. He tried to get into drama schools, but “it was just a no-go”. Abandoning plans to be an actor, and inspired by The Stone Roses, Paul Weller and Britpop, he thought, ‘F**k this, I’m gonna join a band. I could sing, so I thought, I’m laughing, music’ll be easy. I can get pissed and stoned, I don’t have to be so disciplined.” (That’s all changed, by the way: Williamson has stopped drinking and taking drugs in the past few years.)”.

A couple of key tracks from Spare Ribs were highlighted by The Quietus in their interview that I just quoted from. Whilst a lot of Williamson’s lyrics are confident and bold, there is a more vulnerable and insecure side that does appear:

“And a question about language, I've noticed in 'Elocution' and 'Top Room', there's a sense of insecurity in language, where does that come from?

JW: I think it's because I'm quite critical of other people. I've regressed [during lockdown], everything became claustrophobic and insular. I started questioning myself. I went through a period of thinking the way I talked was just horrible, and measuring my own worth in the face of my criticisms towards other people in the music industry. I went through a period of thinking I'm just as big a cunt as they are. All of this started seeping into the lyrics a little bit. 'Elocution' is talking about people who really play the game, who are ambassadors for whatever fucking social justice campaign or giving out awards at whatever ceremonies or being sponsored by Marshall Amps, and using that to climb the hierarchy rather than simply writing good songs. I didn't want to get into that kind of thing, I didn't want to network and hobnob because it's just bullshit, but at the same time I was aware that these people are going to get further.

I want to focus on one of my favourite tracks from Spare Ribs, Elocution, as it has not been released as a single. I feel that few people have spent a lot of time writing about it in detail. Just before then, I want to go back to the Irish Times interview and a passage that referred to when the album started life:

“As proven by Sleaford Mods’ new album, Spare Ribs, creativity during lockdown can deliver intriguing results. Work started on it a few months before March 2020. “We had a loose idea of what it was going to be, what it would sound like, but then we went into mutual hibernation. Andrew sent me some ideas but they didn’t work; we eventually got into a studio at the same time and that made a crucial difference. Gradually, it came together”.

There is a nice contrast to the early stages of Elocution. The introduction has this buzzing and booming electronic beat that gets the body pumping and the head vibrating. It is one of the most immediate and engaging introductions on the album. We then hear Jason Williamson come in with an adopted accent – something quite pompous and nerdy: “Hello there, I'm here today to talk about the importance of independent venues/I'm also secretly hoping that by agreeing to talk about the importance of independent venues/I will then be in a position to move away from playing independent venues”. This is a very timely point of conversation. Independent venues have been hard-hit for years, and many have had to struggle against closure and rising rent prices – in addition to a lack of Government support. Whilst many of those fighting for their survival are pure in terms of their motives and truly value these grassroot venues, there are others that are less sincere and have their eyes; maybe they want attention and popularity so that they can play larger and glitzier venues. I love the way Williamson delivers the lines. There is attitude and a bit of a raised nose that makes you smile. I would be interested to see this released as a single and what Sleaford Mods do with the video. The pace then changes as a rushing drum beat comes in and Williamson’s voice returns to its usual sound. Whether he is aiming at specific artists who do not care about independent venues (and just want attention) or people that seem two-faced (is he, in some ways, referring to himself and how he is not the best at articulating himself on some occasions?!), I am not sure: “I'm no good with elocution/To get myself into the institution/So I can win some donkey straw/Get a frame and put it on my fuckin’ wall”. It is evident that Williamson has had enough of those who speak about the importance of venues and important issues but, when you look at their lives, they are coming from a perspective of privilege and inauthentic posturing: “I wish I had the time/To be a wanker just like you/And maybe then, I'd be somewhere lovely and warm/Just like you”.

Whether he is referring solely to artists who want to hit the big time but feel it is important to support smaller causes to gain popularity, or if it is a shot against a general type of person…I am not 100% firm. I love the composition. There is this pulsing buzz and throb that gives Elocution this momentum and physicality; a nice guitar line comes in that is twangy and cool! This wonderful soundscape, tied to Williamson’s talent for language and delivery, shows why Sleaford Mods are a perfect partnership (I think Andrew Fearn has crafted one of his best compositions on this track!). Giving each verse and line new breath and life, Williamson has this great ability to switch his delivery in terms of pace and accent. This means there is such fluidity and nuance to Sleaford Mods’ work. I really like the lyrics and I feel there are specific people/types that Williamson had in mind when writing: this sort of for-the-people kind that has this surface of caring and nobility but, when you crack the shell, they are hollow and position. Williamson’s gift for language really comes to the fore later in the song: “It's a suicide mission/To go online and knock the opposition/But I don't want no donkey straw/Cos I wee'd in the corner near the stable door/And I buzz, career tabs death/Little one liners/Little clever shithouse fivers/In the scope that the hands of the shite have took/Took to the pegs in the coats where the bones hang up/Hey”. Running in at just under three minutes, Elocution provides Sleaford Mods the time to stretch out and really get their say across; there is the brevity and concision that means the track makes you come back and again and again! Fearn delivers something jazzy and funky later in the song that delivers something warmer - against Williamson’s very direct and punchy words: “I wish I had the time/To be a wanker just like you/And maybe then, I'd be somewhere lovely and warm/Just like you”. There has been a lot of attention (as there should be) aimed at Nudge It (ft. Amy Taylor), and Mork n Mindy (ft. Billy Nomates) (with its two great collaborators). I wanted to focus on a different track that, as I said, would make a great single. I have seen a few reviewers single out Elocution for special praise. It is a wonderful song and one that I keep coming back to. On a magnificent album where every track is a winner, to say Elocution is one of its very best is high praise indeed!

PHOTO CREDIT: Roger Sargent

Before wrapping things up, there are a couple of things I want to explore. I listen to Sleaford Mods’ music and cannot easily link it to another artist. They have such a particular sound and I wonder who they could be inspired by. That said, when Jason Williamson spoke with Hot Press last year, he did reveal some modern artists he likes:

“Although it’s safe to say that Williamson won’t be rushing out to buy the latest Slowthai and IDLES records, there’s plenty of artists that he’s only too happy to gush about.

“I’m listening to a lot of this artist called Billy Nomates,” he says. “She’s got a song called ‘No’ out at the minute, and her album’s coming out soon. She’s really good. Then there’s Westside Gunn and Conway; Amyl and the Sniffers; The Chats; Aldous Harding; Warmduscher.”

There’s plenty of Irish artists on his radar too – including Girl Band, who Sleaford Mods were supposed to tour America with in April, before Covid-19 restrictions were announced.

“I really liked that last album,” he says. “It’s brilliant. We’ve known Lankum for a while too – they’re good people. They played with us in London. Along with Girl Band, they’re the two main bands that are leading things from your country, from my perspective. I’m not too sure about The Murder Capital, but I quite like Fontaines D.C. as well”.

PHOTO CREDIT: Roger Sargent

One of the recent revelations in Sleaford Mods’ work is their collaborations. Beforehand, it has very much been about Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn. On Spare Ribs, we hear Amy Taylor on the Nudge It, and Billy Nomates on Mork n Mindy. Both women are very different (Taylor is the lead of the Australian Punk band, Amyl and the Sniffers; Nomates is Tor Maries: a Bristol/Bournemouth-based artist whose eponymous album was one of the best of last year), and I think these new voices add something special to the mix. Williamson was asked about the collaborations by The Irish Times:

“We were really nervous about it, to be honest. Collaborating? Sleaford Mods? Is that really going to work? We weren’t sure because so many people try it, and it sounds awful. We were sick of what we regarded as s**t collaborations, so it was a bit risky, but we really think it worked.” Assisted on various tracks by UK singer Billy Nomates, Australian vocalist Amy Taylor and Nottingham academic Lisa McKenzie, he says that “prayers were answered because we worked with people whose music we admired and liked”.

As we learn from the Gigwise interview that I quoted from earlier, it seems that other artists might well appear on Sleaford Mods’ albums in the future:

“Instead of engaging with other music that sounds like the band’s own, Williamson says he would rather sink into the dulcet tones of singer-songwriters such as Aldous Harding or the slightly grittier Alex Cameron. Having acquired a taste for collaboration, working on recent single 'Mork and Mindy' with Billy Nomates and 'Nudge It' with Amyl and the Sniffers' Amy Taylor, Williamson says Harding is one the songwriters he’d most like to work with in the future.

“What this album has done is it has shown that we can work with other people, because me and Andrew we get a bit nervy you know, thinking it's gonna be shit. But what this has shown us is that we can do that and push it forward”.

I shall end things there. I wanted to explore a great song from Spare Ribs – an early contender for album of the year already! -, but I was keen to look deeper at Sleaford Mods’ music and what makes them tick. Their music seems to get better and better. I know that their music has been hailed and taken to heart by people around the world but, as the Nottingham duo are among the finest British artists of this generation, they are very much…