West Midlands II - Limited 10" Vinyl

£15.00
sold out

West Midlands II: the long-awaited (pretty much presumed-missing at this stage) second coming of West Midlands (the band) is available on super limited edition lathe-cut Stourbridge crystal vinyl, West Midlands II is the band’s BIG ROCK record, all rama-lama riffs and high octane hollering; a non-ironic love-letter to the gloriously daft sludgefests that roared like hot ale through the veins of the late-century midlands.

The record starts, as BIG ROCK records invariably must, with the song Are You Ready? the purest distillation of West Midlands mogadon metal fixation, an instantly iconic, bone-dry riff, an invitation to party that very suddenly goes south.

Shit Business at the LA Fitness is a bona-fide rock and roll radio smash that you can’t really play on the radio. A floor-burning, horns-aloft, would-be world beater, if only it wasn’t a toilet-mouthed tirade about the proximity of death and being the only goth in the gym.

Track three, Give Me The Music adds a touch of Duran Duran’s Brummies-on-a-yacht swagger, and a dash of The Streets’ plate-eyed rave evangelism to a cautionary tale of night club jitters, before peeling off not one, but two glitterball guitar solos. You know, like Judas Priest would do.

West Midlands II closes with a heads-down slab of proper Midlands metal. Dinosaur is a thundering T Rex of a song, a stone-cold jurassic classic, proudly parsing the souped-up second city paranoia of Black Sabbath into a two-minute air guitar anthem, complete with unreconstructed caveman vocals.

Add To Cart

West Midlands II: the long-awaited (pretty much presumed-missing at this stage) second coming of West Midlands (the band) is available on super limited edition lathe-cut Stourbridge crystal vinyl, West Midlands II is the band’s BIG ROCK record, all rama-lama riffs and high octane hollering; a non-ironic love-letter to the gloriously daft sludgefests that roared like hot ale through the veins of the late-century midlands.

The record starts, as BIG ROCK records invariably must, with the song Are You Ready? the purest distillation of West Midlands mogadon metal fixation, an instantly iconic, bone-dry riff, an invitation to party that very suddenly goes south.

Shit Business at the LA Fitness is a bona-fide rock and roll radio smash that you can’t really play on the radio. A floor-burning, horns-aloft, would-be world beater, if only it wasn’t a toilet-mouthed tirade about the proximity of death and being the only goth in the gym.

Track three, Give Me The Music adds a touch of Duran Duran’s Brummies-on-a-yacht swagger, and a dash of The Streets’ plate-eyed rave evangelism to a cautionary tale of night club jitters, before peeling off not one, but two glitterball guitar solos. You know, like Judas Priest would do.

West Midlands II closes with a heads-down slab of proper Midlands metal. Dinosaur is a thundering T Rex of a song, a stone-cold jurassic classic, proudly parsing the souped-up second city paranoia of Black Sabbath into a two-minute air guitar anthem, complete with unreconstructed caveman vocals.

West Midlands II: the long-awaited (pretty much presumed-missing at this stage) second coming of West Midlands (the band) is available on super limited edition lathe-cut Stourbridge crystal vinyl, West Midlands II is the band’s BIG ROCK record, all rama-lama riffs and high octane hollering; a non-ironic love-letter to the gloriously daft sludgefests that roared like hot ale through the veins of the late-century midlands.

The record starts, as BIG ROCK records invariably must, with the song Are You Ready? the purest distillation of West Midlands mogadon metal fixation, an instantly iconic, bone-dry riff, an invitation to party that very suddenly goes south.

Shit Business at the LA Fitness is a bona-fide rock and roll radio smash that you can’t really play on the radio. A floor-burning, horns-aloft, would-be world beater, if only it wasn’t a toilet-mouthed tirade about the proximity of death and being the only goth in the gym.

Track three, Give Me The Music adds a touch of Duran Duran’s Brummies-on-a-yacht swagger, and a dash of The Streets’ plate-eyed rave evangelism to a cautionary tale of night club jitters, before peeling off not one, but two glitterball guitar solos. You know, like Judas Priest would do.

West Midlands II closes with a heads-down slab of proper Midlands metal. Dinosaur is a thundering T Rex of a song, a stone-cold jurassic classic, proudly parsing the souped-up second city paranoia of Black Sabbath into a two-minute air guitar anthem, complete with unreconstructed caveman vocals.