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I read again today in some jumped-up blog that “rock is dead.” Yeah, right. How often do I have to explain, like Monty Python’s parrot, that it isn’t dead? It is merely resting? It does that sometimes; after all, any genre born in the mid-fifties needs to recharge its batteries now and again. And how do I know that it is just resting? Because when I hear “Fever Dream” by Kicking Edgar, I hear the sound of the genre, relaxed, reenergized, and ready to return to the fray. And, not only that but return with renewed vim and vigor.
It’s been a reasonably full-on year for South-West UK’s funky-punky-alt-rockeradelic outfit Kicking Edgar. This time last year, they were starting to make their mark. Now, thanks to a new run of singles which began with “In My Head”, several summer shows, and festival appearances, things are really starting to hit their stride.
“Fever Dream” sees Kicking Edgar doing what they do best. It is rock, of course. Probably alt-rock if you want to be a stickler about things. But it is also a vehicle for so many other things. The beats swing, the groove has a funk edge, the melodies are infectious, and the breaks are cool. Still, it is that deft blend of smoothness and angularity, funk and freneticism, groove and grace which sets them apart from the rank and file, skinny-jeaned, complicated hair, designer label rockers that have been all that has been on offer of late.
Lemmy from Motorhead once said that your lawn would die if his band moved in next door to you. I think if Kicking Edgar became your neighbor, not only would said lawn flourish, but I should imagine that it would turn into a veritable oasis.
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