On the surface of it, the town of St. Albans, lying 20-ish miles north of London, looks to be the epitome of British urbanity. Named Verulamium by the Romans, according to Wikipedia, it's most famous resident in the last two millenia was sixteenth century philosopher and do-it-yourself renaissance man Francis Bacon.
One man's suburban bliss is of course another's mendacious cage and young people in such benign environments are apt sometimes to demonstrate their rejection of the status quo by taking up a crowbar, a syringe or much preferably a musical instrument. Recently though as if rejecting its historical track record as a lightweight in terms of musical output, St.Albans has produced two very different disciples, both of which seem destined to make their mark in circles far wider than the green fields of Hertfordshire.
Enter Shikari first came to prominence in late 2006, winning keeping it real awards by self releasing their debut album Take To The Skies. The contents were the kind of hybrid which only raw youth, with its audacity and overt lack of respect for the conventions of rock and roll's heritage, could concoct. Blending - not always successfully - grinding screamo nihlism with the dayglo beats-and-bleeps aesthetic much loved by amongst others the Klaxons, the result sounded like a chainsaw running at full speed in a disused synthesizer factory.
Whilst Enter Shikari were hard to understand and even harder to love, St. Albans newest prodigals are much more the types which you could take home to meet your mother. Trio Friendly Fires - comprising childhood mates Ed Macfarlane, Jack Savidge and Edd Gibson - originally formed as a hardcore punk band, before an epiphany helped introduced them to the highly influential techno label Kompakt, legendary DJ Carl Craig, and the ubiquitous dwarf gangster of love Prince. Named after a track by Section 25 - one of the Factory label's more obscure acts - and now toting a self produced, eponymous debut album, arguably their first task is to clearly distance themselves from the so-called "New rave" movement.
For those of you unfamiliar with the term, it's a somewhat oxymoronic handle, best imagined by picturing a night of speed dating during which you get involved with Devo, Gang Of Four, Bizarre Inc., and early New Order. Pioneered by the aforementioned Klaxons, in it's loosest sense you could include James Murphy's LCD soundsystem in its cadre, but most frequently its birthplace is recognized in the angular, minimalist punk-disco of The Rapture's "House of Jealous Lovers". Within a few months of its birth in the decade's emo-dominated midriff fans attending concerts were coming equipped with glo-sticks and yards of neon face paint, ensuring that the music was rapidly overshadowed by scene careering into self parody.
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