Laminate floors, that groove under your nose and biscuits are among the subject matter of a band that could not only take on the music industry in a drinking contest, but eat it up and shit it out in a true a northern way as thought possible by garage punkers Kiwis Ned.
Playing in the only decent hang out in York, the legendary Fibbers, where they not only entered, but came in a commendable third place out of three in their BOTB heats, the Ned have shocked and possibly warped the minds of their onlookers in one of the most innovative punk performances seen in recent times. Though having a sound sense of humour that's displayed throughout the set, there's such an unappreciated capability that drives the Ned from side to side of their exhilarating performance like Jeremy Clarkson in a pimped out lawnmower stuck on extra crisp mode.
Influenced by Okis kebabs, the fine city of York and a love for the bizarre and twisted, their music transcends beyond convention in any form and creates a new genre for itself to live in wavering off predators like a caged Meatloaf during an all you can eat BBQ buffet. To call the Ned a novelty band would prove that you've just not got it and in the same way The Cribs traumatized and entertained with their preliminary shaky beginnings, the Ned are sure to be hastily slanted as the liberators of a geared up nation. With fiercely spat out riffs from Michael Cole and thumping back up from Rich Bell, Martin Parkers uniquely perverted harmonies only add more character to a band that could toss off hits by The Academy like that quick one in the morning, while dreaming up yet more inane ways to mock human existence and sum up mortality through the riggers of a tormented youth, exhibited with contemplation, gusto, mockery and kitsch. We may not know our oranges like the man from Delmonte, but when it comes to kiwis, there's no finer that the stupendous stylings of the mighty Kiwis Ned.
By Alex Lee Thomson
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