And then the wizened old man opened his cracked,
leathery lips and spoke through tobacco stained
whiskers in a harsh, laboured drone of remarkable
sonorous beauty...“Come closer, my child, and I will tell you a tale...Will and Mike first began jamming together amidst the
flurry of sex, drugs and rock n’ roll that was La SWAP
sixth form 2002. After meeting through a chance
celestial arrangement (or perhaps stoned conversion at
parties), Matt joined our fledgling songsmiths with a
second guitar of chiming wit and riddle. Combined with
Will’s gift for epic, glittering pop structures and
Mike’s bass(ic) knowledge of all things funky, the
rudimentary forms of unusually beautiful songs began
to appear beneath the murky waters of the “high-school
band†cliché.As they actually started to learn how to play their
instruments, a variety of drummers were recruited but
all failed to gel with the group and meet their needs
for skunk-punk tub-thumping. All except one. Chris
stood head and afro above the rest and his imaginative
dance beats began to drive our troubadours now
distinctive sound. It soon became clear that a
vocalist of some description was needed and as luck
would have it, Pete, a regular drinking accomplice,
was at that moment floundering in the wreckage of a
previous band. He and Will discussed a possible union
at a Flaming Lips show and the deal was, very quickly,
sealed. Pete began to lend his melodramatic voice and
a throbbing chunk of Soviet cold-war technology to the
post of front man and a band of sorts was born.Rising unsteadily to her feet in a bloody afterbirth
of breakdowns, break-ups, adolescent virility and soft
drugs, the noble form of BONAR LAW revealed herself to
the world. In these bitter climes of boring, two
dimensional, cut and paste pretension and acute retro
rubbishness, the eclectic nature of BONAR LAW and her
offspring of intense modern pop songs threaten to
bring all adversaries to their knees or sweep them off
their feet. One more aphrodisiac for the road...â€I gulped. Understandably."Many moons passed... Battles fought and won under the banner of the omnifish... the young Hesse packed his flasks and beakers and set sail for that centre of chemical excellence, San Diego, and just like that, BONAR LAW was one man down. It took a brave child of destiny to fill his smelly plimsols but our retinue of sonic craftsmen had to make do with Alex, a borderline alcoholic male nurse and local practitioner of the Dark Arts. As our protagonists ploughed forth into new musical territory and a veritable campaign of spring concerts, Alex’s harmoniously sparkling offerings spewed forth like a gay volcano over songs old and new. Man down no longer, BONAR LAW flexed her muscles and prepared for times ahead. And we thank her for it..."The old mans eyes flicked from left to right like a lizards. I was too enraptured to comment.
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