Kid Print began in September 2001 when Sam (guitar) and Mel (bass) started to write songs and formulate an idea for a group. We expanded to a three piece with the addition of Graham (drums) in December 2001 and then to our present line up with the arrival of Jonny (vocals) in March 2002. Presently we have played gigs at the University of Sunderland Students Union and have also supported Mavis and Spraydog. In May 2002 we recorded a five track demo, which may or may not be titled 'Help Me, I'm Trapped'.
Some people just can’t help feeling. Some bands hate to feel. The best bands feel everything. Feelers are Nirvana, Joy Division and Prince (up to Sign O’ The times). Unfeelers are The Black Crowes, Mike Love from The Beach Boys and general cynical marketing campaign-led bands. Kid Print feel, and for white kids with guitars, strangely it isn’t all love. If Kid Print were a Western, they’d be The Wild Bunch. If they were a gangster movie they’d be Goodfellas and if they were a love story they’d be Romeo & Juliet. Anger, hate, love and the way that a body blow can feel like a kiss are the important things to know and believe. Kid Print believe not only in themselves but also in the power of human emotions. That’s not to say that they’re backpack-carrying emo simpletons; they have too many arse-kicking rock albums in their collection to need to bother with the likes of Jets to Brazil. Listening to Kid Print invokes the following: spectres of being dumpee a! nd dumper; audio psychosis; sheer love and, well, hope, which nobody can live without. All this is a sum of the parts:
Sam - nice haircut, fuzzy guitar, Kid Print’s head honcho understands that sloppy is an art and that not every song has to be drenched in twenty-two gallons of distortion.
Mel - classically trained pianist, switched on to bass guitar. Angelic voice but a demonic hunger for rock not seen since Keith Richards.
Jonny - the man who’s gonna take ginger love to the masses. Expect a Smash Hits centre spread for the uncouth young man singing such lovely songs.
Graham - the glue that binds them. A titan that holds the world up on its axis. Peacemaker, beer guzzler, and totally Zen. Any more laidback he’d be still in bed.
This band will be heard, no matter how many obstacles stand in their way. No garage-rock wannabes here, come the revolution these chameleons will be standing at the sidelines with Molotov cocktails while Strokes-copyists and nouveau-Hives shiver and strain at their impending demise at the hands of fashion’s fickle tastes.