Four Brazilians now based in London's 'trendy' Shoreditch, who play rock'n'roll but in a far spunkier fashion that most of the leather jacket brigade. So no, this isn't another tedious garage affair like the scraping-the-barrel bottom end of that yawnsome movement spitting out conveyor belt pish (naming no names because there was a minor outcry last time I did). It's almost like a sleazier Wannadies, or if Marc Bolan had joined The Undertones. If the first three songs were physically capable of shooting up your trouser leg like a furious stoat, then they'd do just that. Just to confuse things a little further, last track, 'The New Radio Station', has shades of early '90s shoegazing to it. Curiouser and curiouser.
Wry are a rock'n'roll band who have a good ear for a tune, and new bands like these are few and far between.
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