Hugh J. Noble wanted to start a band, frustrated by having no-one's arse to whip when his microphone stand fell over. He posted an ad. Rob M. Lyon replied saying 'Yes - I shall be that arse'. This was early 2007. Hugh composed a list of potential band names. It was sculptured down until a fragment of clay remained. And the clay spelt 'Milktrain to Paydirt'.
After excreting a few tracks, it was apparent that we needed a third leg. Rolf Harris wasn't handy, so we employed spies to find a drummer for us. But not just any drummer. A drummer who can turn his hand to all forms of tea making. And after finishing our last song, of our first gig, a rather dapper young gent approached the stage, hand outstretched awaiting our manly grips. And O! we did shake. And the shaking hasn't stopped. Ashley, or Ash, or A, has entered the band like a gentle, but confident, lover, providing a seasoning that could withstand the most unforgiving of flame-grills. The triumvirate had crystallised.
Musically, we are progressing like milk-only-fed calves in a light-deprived shed. Our smell is not dissimilar.
We were Milktrain to Paydirt. Then we were Critical Beatdown. Now we're Heart + Lungs. It all sounds the same. Let us ruin your ears.
