Squid

Sunday evenings are shit. Somewhere between the end of the Antiques Roadshow and the opening credits of Songs Of Praise a little bit of the soul seems to fall away - Monday morning looms and with it comes...(drum roll please)...Stuff. To. Do. Luckily, this weekend I found the perfect antidote to that sickening feeling of the impending ‘week ahead’. Unsurprisingly, it comes in the form of music. Thank chuff for Horsebox.

There’s quirky. There’s oddball. There’s completely bonkers - and then there’s Horsebox. Who, happily for everyone that’s had the pleasure of seeing this five piece live, lie somewhere in the middle. If popular music was a washing machine, Horsebox would be the aerialator – constantly spinning, throwing itself in and out of folk/country storytelling, artsy guitar rhythms, catchy knees-up choruses and tumbling melodies all fittingly augmented by a small glockenspiel, tiny keyboard and a witty, garrulous English burr. You can almost hear the chink of teacup against saucer.

Tonight’s set showcases tunes that are clever without being smug, rough without being lost. And in hirsute, jittering vocalist/guitarist Will, we have undeniable proof of a major new talent in our midst. Sunday, bloody brilliant Sunday!