It’s also charming to hear something as raw as the outro to “Kate Moss”, an audio verité post-midnight recording about trying to get popstar business done while still living with mum and dad. But it wasn’t just shock value, it was hard not to get caught up in the tribulations of everyday teen life whether partying, eying up waitresses, fucking up, or getting fucked up. Moffat’s gift for spit-your-drink-out-in-surprise lines was in full effect, take “Blood” as a quintessential example (i.e., “I wish it was someone else’s blood on the johnnie…”). The album runs the gauntlet from “General Plea to a Girlfriend” with its tub-thumping beat and distorted chanting, through to the imperiled innocence of “Deeper”, a startling tale that speaks to how unknowable and mysterious the opposite sex can feel when young. What they must have heard is the remarkable breadth of talent on display. Credit to Chemikal Underground, most labels would have heard something this disheveled and instantly tried to fix the life out of it, losing all its charming relatability in the process. In amid a mainstream dominated by high-octane studio-as-instrument productions, Arab Strap arrived with a curious grab-bag of home-made demos, having not yet played a gig. The Week Never Starts Round Here (Chemikal Underground, 1996)
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