Retrospective – EARLS

THE FOXES IN THE HEN HOUSE I: EARLS WAS ‘ERE

Written by Thomas Needham

Photography by Kevin Gaughan

Read our interview with EARLS in celebration of their 10th anniversary here.

You thought going back to university would get rid of me? WRONG.

Welcome to a new series, deep diving into Leicester’s musical lineage: The Foxes in The Hen House. Leicester’s music scene didn’t start with Kasabian and it sure as hell better not end with them. Today’s subject? The boys from the black country: EARLS.

insert beer can opening sound effect

Cast your mind back to 2015, way back when I was in nappies. The year of strong and stable government and the ‘whip-whip nae-nae’. Having had the chance to interview the founders of EARLS, Ant and George, it certainly seems the two are doing a whole lot better than Silento, who recently got sent to the slammer for thirty years. And also David Cameron, who will soon meet a similar fate. 

You can find the accompanying interview here and at the bottom of this article. Do give it a peruse.

Spawning out of a series of black country-based predecessors such as ‘Breath’ (aka. ‘Sugarlumps’ and ‘Meth’) and a three-piece reggae-punk band called ‘51st State’, ‘EARLS’ * would be born when Anthony Lamb (singer and guitarist) and George Prosser (drummer) began attending university in Leicester.

• Not to be confused with the Bluegrass band ‘The Earls of Leicester’ who aren’t even from Leicester. Absolute posers. Nashville ain’t got nuffin on ol’ Rat Eyes.

‘What were EARLS doing during these heady days?’ I hear you ask. While there’s not a wealth of information from their formative years but I can confirm they were drinking and smoking, oh and they squirted mustard on some fella’s head.

While juggling to make ends meet, keep up their studies (in substance abuse) and grow the band, they played a series of gigs during this time, playing with groups like the rockabilly trio Hanzo, noise quartet The Surrealists and melodic death metal group Monachopsis.

Their first EP ‘SKUM KING’ (later known informally as ‘the shit ep’) was self-recorded with help from the De Montfort University Recording Society and released later that year in 2017. It’s since been banished to the shadow realm for being ‘not good’.

With only a limited run of physical releases remaining in the wild, it can suitably be dubbed a piece of Leicester lost media. Featuring early renditions of later songs Skum King and The Boys (Are Alright), there are two more tracks that were never touched again: Sensate (notable for being the only song where Ant shreds on a guitar) and Slog it Out, which is the only surviving recording of this EP available online. And yeah, there’s a reason why it’s not more widely available. It pales in comparison to what EARLS would accomplish later on.

The instrumental itself is solid, the direction of travel for their sound with heavy distortions, extensive hammer-ons, manic drumlines and getting straight to the ol’ rough and tumble was clear from the start. Where the song really lacks is in the quality of the vocals. Slightly tinny and occasionally muffled, Ant holds back in a higher register than would become typical. The chorus of ‘come on then, you want some?’ is already not their best in terms of EARLS’ ever-to-the-point storytelling but especially sung that high, it really strains the belief that you’re well and truly about to get your head kicked in (even though you totally are, Ant is like 7’4).

And yet, I love it. Yes, you heard me, despite everything, I really like listening to this song. Obviously there’s a novelty to witnessing a band hone their craft and sound but beyond that it’s really quite catchy despite the mixed tone and the fact that these ideas are better expressed in future work. While bands will always look back on their early work like Kurt Cobain looked at himself, it’s a necessary first step, and without it they wouldn’t have reached the heights they would reach shortly. Free up ‘SKUM KING’ (2017). If you’ve got a copy, get in contact with me!

The duo’s old secondary school motto, ‘Ut Filii Lucis Fiatis,’ translates to ‘That We Shall Become Sons of Light’ but unlike the school where they derived their name, EARLS are void of the pretensions of being the voice for the voiceless and downtrodden. They aren’t seeking to wax lyrical about the state of the world. There is no noblesse, they’re here to get wasted and have a good time. To catalogue the absurdity of our world and to treat the world in kind. That romantic, pious motto is flipped on its head; they shine a beacon of light on the seedy underbelly of Leicester’s nightlife, exposing the world to the chaos of the oft-overlooked flatlands we call home.

EARLS promised 2018 would be a big year for them. They were right when they dropped three singles simultaneously: The End is Nigh, We Don’t Want ‘Em and We Are Skum.

Recorded at Stayfree Music, the leap in quality can’t be overstated. The slightly plodding guitar leaps into a galloping drumline as we hurtle headfirst into certain oblivion. The End is Nigh is perhaps most evocative of EARLS’ hard punk roots, taking the literalness of songs like London Calling and translating it into the 21st century. Ant well and truly finds his voice and sends it with an aggression that you almost get the impression he’s reveling in prophesying society’s doom, already utterly inundated with ‘the walking dead’. It’s one of the few times I can think of where background sound effects added in post (in this case, an air raid siren) really fit in the song.

We Don’t Want ‘Em is one of EARLS’ heaviest, which, considering their later works, is certainly saying something; when it gets in the groove, you aren’t going to stop the cavalcade. It just suffers from pacing issues that bring the song down to a crawl, the verses aren’t quite enough to tide me over and the hook of ‘we don’t want ‘em’ pales in comparison to the band’s later lyrical efforts. It fits perfectly as one of the band’s official first singles; it sets up various ideas that the band would better explore later. There’s no solution, there’s no conversation to be had, ‘we don’t want the shit you’re selling’ and it’s glorious in its bluntness.

By far the standard of this triple single release is We Are Skum, the singular moment when EARLS truly came into their own. This is EARLS flag-bearing banger and would remain a setlist staple for the rest of their time as a band – and rightly so.

There were mods, rockers, teddyboys, beatniks, romos, skinheads, rudeboys, punks, juggalos, emos, goths, ravers, fraggles, metalheads, grebos- but if there was a catch-all term to describe how all these groups were seen by their betters, it’d have to be ‘skum’.

A central part of EARLS is reclamation. From reclaiming their lives from societal expectations forcing them to think about anything other than getting absolutely lathered to reclaiming terms used to put down predominantly working-class communities for decades. EARLS plant their claim in the ground and take back what is rightfully theirs. If we’re going to be treated like skum regardless, then why is the onus on you to prove otherwise?

It’s one of the definitive songs to come out of Leicester. Straight from the beginning with that deafening opening, you know you’re in for a rabble rouser of a track. And for four magnificent minutes, EARLS do not let their foot off the gas. With absolutely generational lyrics like,‘I’d rather quit eating before I quit smoking,’ you’ll be hard-pressed to find a song that tells you everything you need to know about a band with such flair and poise.

Today, everyone wants to be skum. There are even those who want to wear skum skinsuits without being ‘skum’ at all. We are skum. And we love it. I also found out if you listen to this song in reverse, it’s actually subliminally telling you to retire early and go Caravanning with the Mrs. Awesome detail on EARLS’ part.

By now they’d played with The Blinders, Savanna Bones, Kynch, Swutchdown, Handwaxx, Acid Cannibals, Boy Azooga, The Vultures, Knice, Life, taken to the stage at Handmade Festival 2018 and finally got signed with Earwig Records alongside Fivehead (who’d later become The People Assembly, whoever they are.)

Their first gig as EARLS was played with Jouska in front of an audience of 10, three short years later they’d be gearing up for the release of their debut album with a headline gig at The Cookie with Smack Jack and Spacetoast.

With a full room-sized cardboard set, Rowan Taylor (of The Societys and The People Assembly) heads up the photoshoot for their full-fledged album ‘CARDBOARD PALACE’. When offered anything from the local shop as payment for his work, Rowan chose a Kinder Surprise egg.

George was stuck to the ceiling as punishment for stealing Neil Cicirega’s viral ‘Harry Potter Puppet Pals’ video on his childhood YouTube account. Some say he’s still there today.

2019’s ‘CARDBOARD PALACE’, produced by Joey Whelan, is an ode to the vacuous malaise of modern living. Impulsive, animalistic and raw – it is the story of life in a tailspin, desperately clutching for the resemblance of control through chaos. Without direction, without opportunities, without hope- it’s a rather roundabout way of saying ‘yeah, we’re never going to afford to own our own homes’.

To the usual naval-gazing types, it’ll be yet more mindless pleasure seeking by young ruffians but if there’s one thing that characterises EARLS to me, it’s about reclaiming your life in whatever way you can. From the job that you hate, the education that doesn’t interest you, the opportunities and people that slip you by, the feeling that everything you do is simply what is expected of you, rather than something you genuinely want to do. And what you really want to do is go out and get rats-arsed.

It doesn’t bestow upon you some gleaming insight, knowledge or solution but it’s a perfect reflection of the world handed down to us. Do you feel free? You shouldn’t. You should be really f–king angry – EARLS are at least.

Enter: I’m A Man, the perfect opening song and where all new listeners looking to get into EARLS should start. Their music sounds simple but to do what they do, and more importantly, do it right, isn’t easy. The guitars are an oppressive wall of sound, with the bends on the guitar, it’s a cacophony on the verge of complete breakdown. When they aren’t present, the track is stark, with only George’s light percussion to hold you over while Ant lyrically lets rip with a detached but cutting diatribe that’d by now become an EARLS staple.

Coming Up is at least the second-best song to bear this title, credit where it’s due, few can top McCartney II. One thing EARLS has over Macca is the fact that when EARLS make a song about drugs, they’ll say they made a song about drugs. Actually, another thing EARLS has over Macca is when they make a song about drugs, it doesn’t get banned by the Beeb; it gets played on BBC Introducing East Midlands.

Interpolating Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody, the romantic connotations are stripped away by a transactional, carnal desire for another while under the influence of some toot, it’s got the slight Hellish quality to clubbing that’s a necessary evil.

‘Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not’ * is wonderfully jargon-heavy and if you can peak the lyrics through the heavy Yorkshire dialect, you can have a little point of pride to flog to your mates. EARLS, on the other hand, is repetitive, overstated and specifically designed to be learnt by newcomers on a first listen. It’s simple, catchy and ultimately makes complete sense for a band seeking to entice new fans. The barrier to entry is quite literally on the floor. I don’t think I exactly have to explore a song called House Party with Freudian analysis or an astrological horoscope to tell you what it’s about. Take a wild bloody guest pal.

• Tom tries not to mention Arctic Monkeys in every single goddamn article challenge: impossible. (GET OUT OF MY HEAD. GET OUT OF MY HEAD. GET OUT OF MY HEAD.)

As Leicester’s response to the wave of overly-verbose poets with a band attached that followed Turner’s example, EARLS remembered one thing that the rest neglected: presentation!

In a live setting there’s nothing more exhilarating for both the audience and the band than being able to scream the lyrics at each other. And EARLS’ port of call was always going to the stage, the direct interaction, the impromptu introductions to each song, the theatrics of leading into the next song. Whether it’s forcing members of the audience (or Owen) to don makeshift cardboard signs, or stomping out in full slav-squat and animal-skin pimp jacket to the chorus of Vindaloo – EARLS knew how to make an entrance.

The highlight of Entitled has to be the absolutely roaring guitar work. I get a real kick when the tone goes all skrungly (technical term), it just makes me wish it was done more. At a time when Lil Dicky brought together his gaggle of rich celebrity friends to bolster his flopping career to churn out potentially one of the worst songs of all time (Earth) all under the guise of climate awareness, EARLS bite back. If you went skiing on your ‘gap yaaar’, avert thine precious eyes now.

Ant’s delivery drips with venom while George totally dominates the tracks with some tasteful (as tasteful as EARLS could be) fills. EARLS says it how it is and real must recognise real. In a world where vacuous consumption is akin to protest and the charts plod on as if this is normal or acceptable, EARLS age like fine wine or a particularly potent parmesan when they kick down the door, crack open an alcoholic beverage and plonk cold hard reality on the table.

Now Anger Management is easily one of EARLS’ best. A twisting, tumbling carnival-ride of track, it takes the ideas laid out in Slog It Out and turns them into gold. Those cavalcading guitars are the soundtrack to the world’s angriest carousal. And we’ve not even gotten onto that finale. As George batters down the hatches with ever-building intensity, Ant delivers one of his most impassioned and persistent vocals of EARLS’ entire tenure. As the entire track comes collapsing in on itself in the most gratifying way. It’s simply a must-listen.

The album’s by no means perfect, the run of Kleptomaniac, The Boys (Are Alright) and The Weekend largely feels like padding. Kleptomaniac lacks the ‘umpf’ (again, a technical term) of prior tracks; like the concepts it sets out remain yet to be fully explored. The main hook of ‘I know I don’t need it’ doesn’t quite capture me in the same way, say, Coming Up does. Maybe it just hits a little close to home with all the random bits and bobs I’ve collected during my music excursions. Anyone interested in half a drumstick?

The Boys (Are Alright) doesn’t have quite the same issue with time but once I found out this was an early cut from their very first EP, it all clicked into place. Both pull the same trick near the end by pulling away all the instrumentation before one final blow-out chorus but you can only pull that trick a few times before it becomes a crutch to try and give the impression of a resolution. For pacing’s sake, I’d cut the minute-longer Kleptomaniac, also because that incessant hi-hat is impossible to stop hearing once you notice it – and it gets old quickly.

That’s not to say there’s nothing of value to be gleaned. One aspect of EARLS I find doesn’t get spoken about enough is just how funny they are. While The Weekend is dobbed under similar problems to the prior two songs, the pay-off warrants its inclusion. Gallows humour is a powerful tool and EARLS are always happy to indulge. Ant’s delivery of:

‘Monday we do nuffin.’

‘Tuesday we do nuffin.’

‘Wednesday we do nuffffin.’

‘Thursday we do nuffffffffieeeeneh’

is perfect. But the best example of this (and one I’ve purposefully held off exploring as keen eyed EARLS officiandos may have noticed), is House Party. Any slander of House Party will not be tolerated; the shade this song gets thrown at only makes me like it more. The only reason the prior three tracks don’t get the same derision from Ant is because they’re ultimately more forgettable; House Party is one of EARLS’ best songs.

Few if any bands carry the brass balls to say ‘we like house parties so now we’re going to write a song about it’, even fewer can pull it off without coming off like total heathens. The story behind this house party in particular involved Ant and George’s windows being broken in by a random bloke looking for ‘Jimmy’. Little did random bloke know, there genuinely was no Jimmy. At least, not until this song was created in response.

The Jimmy joke pays off threefold and dips; it’s envisioned and executed perfectly. For all intents and purposes, it achieves everything it sets out to do, does so with finesse, doesn’t bore us, gets straight to the chorus and doesn’t outstay its welcome. It’s literally perfect. Yes, I will die on this hill; no, there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Also, William Shatner would do a killer cover of this.

Speaking of perfect- did you hear that single off-kilter opening chord? No? Well suck it up buttercup- we’re talking about I Can’t Move. What a song. I’ve found a new 505 for all the losers out there. No, I can’t help myself. The low-hanging fruit is literally right there.

By far the longest track on the album, EARLS know this one’s special and they’ll take their sweet time with it. It’s their only ballad and they pull no punches in its execution. Ant’s delivery is at its best; you feel every twinge of emotion, every gut-punch of confession, every affirmation of self-loathing. The inability to accept that things change and to reckon with the future as it looms over you daily is a formative feeling and one I know hangs over many.

Restraint as emphasis is key to EARLS and every cresting wave of instrumentation is complemented by a quiet, contemplative waltz, lilting gently through a lyrical profession of personal cowardice. ‘The future’s uncertain / and that’s what I’m scared of’, isn’t even the most painful line in the song. For me, the lyric ‘I don’t want to go outside’, in hindsight, serves as a foreboding epitaph to the world we once knew. 2019 truly was a lifetime ago. Bemoan it as corny, bemoan it as try-hardy – I’ll bemoan the fact you’ll never be able to create something with a single ounce of sincerity. This song is special; it’s as simple as that.

And EARLS know this is a stand-out, but don’t seem confident enough in having it be the album’s final track. The actual final songs are solid, spoilers sorry, but they suffer from Dizzy Miss Lizzy syndrome. The now infamous decision by The Beatles on 1965’s ‘Help!’ to not use Yesterday as the final track, replaced instead by a jaunty 8-bar blues standard. Yes it’s a great song but the album as a piece of art itself suffers because of it. I just can’t help but imagine a world where that single off-kilter opening chord cuts through the chaos of Skum King; with the central conceit of the album made clear, only then do you peel back the curtain.

It doesn’t really matter where you put I Can’t Move in this album; it’s entirely unto itself. Nothing on the album leads into it and anything that follows it is going to be equally whiplash-inducing. Ultimately, I’m aware that I am but a man – I probably wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to put The End is Nigh as the penultimate track either but I just have a little hunch.

Now I’m not quite pretentious enough to claim that CARDBOARD PALACE is a concept album but Skum King neatly ties up all the album’s ideas with a neat little bow. If you try hard enough, I’m sure you could find a lovely little reference both lyrically and musically to most of the album but I want to at least pretend to keep the pretense that I have a life outside of Leicester’s music scene.

That ascending run up the guitar into the second verse with the distortion whacked to 11 is such a great detail, even if the timing slightly stumbles, it’s a worthy sacrifice – inject that sh-t straight into my veins! CARDBOARD PALACE ends as it started: bluntly. And as the record finishes, you finally get a moment’s reprieve to collect yourself. Then you start it from track 1 all over again.

CARDBOARD PALACE is one of the best albums to come out of Leicester’s local scene. Finding out about it last January was a revelation about local music for me. I’m glad to have finally put my thoughts down into writing before I spontaneously combust.

One aspect of local music that gets overlooked during the mad dash to be a reputable and proper recording artist is the fact that local bands thrive live. Without performance, what are you? What makes this album so special in my mind is how it defies the expectation that local music is only at its best live. It stands up on its own through the sheer quality of the music; EARLS will not be treated with the indignity of having anything less than your full attention.

Following the album, EARLS would release two cover singles featuring covers of Dizzee Rascal’s Bonkers and Underworld’s Born Slippy .NUXX respectively. While house, techno and other assorted Mosh-adjacent bangers aren’t usually fertile ground for guitar groups to traverse, EARLS bite the bullet. For years they’d both been sticklers of their live sets and really did deserve to be documented as part of their history. The songs had been made all but their own.

While I don’t think any cover of these songs could supplant the originals, I don’t see that as the intention. They’re more of a salute to the classics of the ol’ Ingurlish night-out- besides, it’s not like they ever attempted Mr Brightside… *

• Video found after the above joke was written, now it looks like I have egg on my face. If you’d wish to see more EARLS footage, Rowan Taylor has the most comprehensive collection going – check it out. Videographers don’t get enough credit for the work they do to preserve the scene.

While these singles don’t stand up quite so well compared to their live renditions and it was a good decision to release them separately from the album, the covers are solid. It’d take a special kind of talent to ruin Born Slippy. I really consider these bonus tracks. A little cherry on top of a rather cranky cardboard cake.

2019 would continue to see EARLS on the up, returning to Handmade Festival, they’d make further appearances at Dot to Dot 2019 and a headline show at O2 Academy Leicester alongside Jools. They’d play further shows throughout the summer and into the new year with The Soap Girls, Molars, Wurlitzer, Restless Bear, Graves, Dehyey, Our City Fires until they didn’t. For 16 months. I wonder why.

EARLS would not write, record or release any material during the lockdowns; the only gig they’d play would be a Soundhouse Session. The latter half of both Ant and George’s early 20s would be spent exclusively locked inside and when they finally returned, EARLS was never going to be the same.

Enter their next single: Money 4 Meat. It’s by far their most underrated song.

A dead-cut off between the EARLS of two ramshackle students trying to make ends meet in a new city to two jaded adults still trying to make ends meet in a not-so-new city, COVID served as the hard-cut off between the two.

Their notoriously copious amount of optimism was gone. And this desolate, all-consuming soundscape marks the return of a new EARLS in a new world. The new normal, if you will. No more parties, no more silly business and no more Bonkers (literally, they stopped playing it after Dizziee’s arrest for being a rascal), just the crushing weight of responsibility and work. Post-lockdown, Ant would begin managing The Big Difference, having worked as a bartender under its previous incarnation The Cookie.

The band ditches their punk-rock roots for their only industrial song. Sometimes you wake up and want to make a Swans track; EARLS went out and did it and my ears are better for it. With haunting backing vocals, Ant takes to a megaphone to decry the state of the world in an instrument that contorts and mutates into a behemoth of a song. As if the great gears of the EARLS war machine are slowly winding back up, by the end, the message is clear – they’re back.

The nihilistic desolation turned out to be a very appropriate song for that Christmas period when Ant tested positive for COVID, scuppering not only their headlining Christmas Party at Firebug to support the new single but also the surprise announcement EARLS had doubled. Now decked out as a four-piece with Alex Hemley on guitar and Josh Withers on bass, the two 18-year-olds would mark a new era for the band’s final stretch. Without them, I get the impression there was a very real possibility EARLS may have never reformed after COVID.

After a further cancelled gig due to the virus with Joe and The Shitboys, EARLS would finally take to the stage once again alongside bands like DreamCage, Dum Language, Rosaire and The Verinos as well as the relaunch of The Shed with Ohana, Chambers, Scumbag Lion, Oceans Apart and Our City Fires. They’d further return to Handmade Festival 2022 and debut at Glastontree that summer.

The sense of impending doom that followed EARLS grew; their time as an active band was to slowly wind down with a series of funeral shows before entering into oblivion after guitarist Alex Hemley and bassist Josh Withers moved away for university. EARLS haters rejoice until they check how long this article still has left.

Somehow EARLS came back with a new single recorded over the Christmas break at the start of 2023: Emotional Labour.

Opening with a drum kick straight out of a Throbbing Gristle song, with Alex and Josh the sound is bursting at the seams, EARLS shall be subdued no more. Perhaps controversial (me? No, never.) but I never really clicked with this one. The parts are lesser than the whole. Ant’s delivery and lyrics are some of, if not, the best in the band’s entire discography. It’s another Stetson Sorrel where the song is positively electric live, Ant’s extended drawl on every ‘labour’ really brings the song together, to lose that in the single release makes me sad!

George’s drums are so low in the mix, I hear them but I don’t feel them, which is a damn shame because that man can sure as hell hit a drum… Also that sudden gear shift into a cheesy 70s cop movie car chase isn’t really helped by the stock police car siren sound effect. I get it, it’s something a bit new but it kind of sucks me out of the song even as it tries to build up to that final emotional apex. It just detracts from that truly perfect ending; the sheer anger in the delivery of those final few ‘FUCK YOU. PAY ME.’s caps the song off with one of EARLS’ best bits of advice.

It’s not a bad song but it could be so much better, which is always the most frustrating kind to me. Those five or six out of tens, just sitting there, on the verge of greatness, mockingly. It’s the uncanny valley of music I can’t bear to wallow in. If I ever get to see this song live, I shall rue my big mouth but until that distant day I’m sitting pretty.

While their singles cover were previously: insert picture, black and white filter, black vignette on 70, slam in the title (capitalised), become world-famous rockstars, print money, etcetera – I’d say that has more charm than dapper AI frog. Although holding a cigarette inside your finger is impressive. It was 2023, different times, different times.

In commemoration of The Society’s 2024 masterpiece ‘Tars Sadlum’ and their song ‘goalz’, EARLS United FC would be formed to do battle with The Societys FC. They lost. Embarrassingly. And so it was written at the time; ‘unable to handle their crippling defeat, EARLS disbanded shortly after the big game, never to make any worthwhile contributions to music ever again.’

Well, that was a lie.

Blackheath was always intended to be the end, a parting gift, if you will… A parting gift that has a black and white coded album cover, that also features the word ‘black’, that also, also features sudden changes to the structure? Close enough, welcome back David Bowie.

Named after the small English town of Ant’s birth, according to Wikipedia a notable step forward in the city’s economic history was when a Sainsbury’s opened back in the 90s. It was also part of the Smethwick constituency back in 1964 when a certain slogan involving the word ‘neighbour’ was used by the challenging Conservative candidate to put down the growing Commonwealth population in the area.

I wouldn’t go so far to say it’s an act of repentance from EARLS, it’s never that easy to pin down, but it’s certainly a meditation on the band and what it represents to those who formed it. An acknowledgement that after nearly a decade since their formation, those involved aren’t the same. Life happens, people change and that’s a good thing. As an individual you either accept that fact or you die – unfortunately for EARLS, accepting that fact meant the band would die. You’re not nineteen forever (since we’re keeping up the Mosh bangers). The furthest CARDBOARD PALACE era EARLS ever got was the occasional self-effacing acknowledgment that their behaviour and attitudes were ‘cliche’, Blackheath is EARLS taking ownership.

I respect the ability to neatly tie a project together, and more topically, to have the self-awareness to know when to call it a night. ‘I hope I die before I get old,’ sings 81-year-old Roger Daltrey as he goes about firing drummers all willy-nilly. Money printers go brrrrr.

It’s heavy. I can’t imagine listening to it regularly but that’s certainly not an indication of its quality. A bit like The People Assembly’s The Soup of Yesterday (review for good soup here), it’s less of a song and more of a statement. Notable for what they represent for their respective bands than necessarily a song that you listen to on repeat in the background; each requires your attention and your investment.

Blackheath is truly EARLS’ crowning glory. Ant’s monologue sure as hell threw me off on the first listen. He may be lucid as ever but never had he truly stepped back and been as cool and collected in his thoughts. There’s an extra level of firmness to his words in just how uncharacteristically calm he is in approach.

It’s the first waltz from their discography since I Can’t Move yet it comes from a completely different place. Ant may refer to the former as ‘a tragic tale of self-indulgence’, with it literally being about one’s inability to continue on but Blackheath is about accepting it. It’s not a resolution, at least not for those involved, just an acknowledgment of one’s place and personal responsibility with a promise to be better. To, for lack of a better term, become a son of the light (zing! Always bring back the smoking gun).

To know that while your past will always remain an innate part of you, it’s your choice to choose whether or not to let it define you. You carry that weight, not because it’s nice, or pleasant, or easy but because you have to. We all carry that weight, everyday. And oftentimes we fail, it’s in getting back up and choosing to live that counts. Pick yourself up, there’s work to do.

Basically, I totally understand why this would be their favourite song from their catalog. I don’t agree, I’m still only 19 years young, guys! House Party! House Party! House… Party… Christ, I’m 20 in 3 months…

After playing another string of funeral shows, anyone would think EARLS had nine lives but all things do come to an end eventually and with Blackheath, it was time for EARLS. They’d officially disband in 2024 after a run of nearly a decade.

Since then Alex and Josh have formed a Manchester-based outfit called Fruit. Drummer George Prosser has joined GUDNESS and has taken a dachshund called Gravy under his wing. Anthony Lamb is working on a new group tentatively dubbed Pumping Station. As The Big Difference leaps from strength to strength, as does Ant’s ever-expanding repertoire of cute cats.

EARLS was ‘ere. They were born slippy. They lived slippy. They died slippy. For those in the scene while they were around, their memory lingers, for those like me who only have the occasional recording and official release to clutch onto I live knowing I well and truly missed the bus on this one. No band quite so gleefully recounts the raucous dredges of Leicester – not with that kind of ferocity. There will be no other, EARLS well and truly have their place in Leicester’s local cannon on lock. All those who knew them in their prime and all those who look back fondly at the legacy they created will join together in their honour: shout it – larger, larger, larger.

To conclude, this article shall be the last time I ever breathe a word about Alex Turner and his posse of nippy sapiens in writing. I’ve turned a new leaf. I’m going to start huffing paint instead. Cheers.

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If this article has enticed you to read further about EARLS, check out this article’s accompanying interview with Ant and George themselves. I’d like to take this time to thank them for the time and effort they put into making it a worthwhile read. I’d also like to give a special thank you to Rowan Taylor (chief connoisseur of the EARLS archives) for his help and permission to use his recordings.

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