Uncle Jack - Demo
Jared O'Mara 00/00/0000
Question: Why do good bands sometimes have shit names (Arctic Monkeys anybody?)
Answer: Fuck knows…
Uncle Jack: How very paedophilic! Luckily for these Glasgow rockers they don't need sweeties to entice the kiddies; their music alone is like a siren call to every rock-aspiring pre-teen around. Like when you're just finding your musical way and you reckon Bon Jovi are the shiznit.
First track Slave to the Wage is a classic rawk-pop anthem and a half that'd have riotous resonance with all the rebellious rock-kids of rural Britain and Suburbia. “Aaaaaaaaaall I neeeeeeeeeed is Anarchhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy” sings the gravel-lunged, guile-blessed, bluesy frontman. Hey 12 year old Status Quo fan in Wiltshire! Uncle Jack are calling you to arms!
Second ditty Come Alive doesn't really live up to the standard that's just been set unfortunately, as the band sing about how they “make love on the weekends, holding hands like we're friends” erring more towards Bryan Adams (Yuck) than Bon Jovi, but without they acne scars, thankfully, as a glance on their website (www.unclejackmusic.com) shows pictures of a group of cool cats who thankfully look now't like the crater-faced Canadian cunt.
Next up Still Life Tragedy sends the boys ragin' back to form with some great drum work and Slade style lyrics: “baby lets go crazy throw your hands into the air, shed your inhibition, raw emotion everywhere” Cum feel da noise, watch the Baggies and Wolverhampton Wanderers…err, it's CCHRISTMAAAAAAAAASSSSSS! (maybe not). And then we get a filthy gutair-driven interlude which serves as a seedy breath of dirt air before the cheese-laden chorus kicks back in and the song finishes.
But the best is yet to come as the band swoon effortlessly from pre-pubescent rawk to pure and simple dad-rock with final number Too Many Pills. One wonders if these Gritty Glaswegian veterans have written this with a drug-addled friend in mind as the emotion conveyed in the vocals and especially the guitar work is actually quite touching. It really makes me wanna raise my lighter in the air on a cold summer's night in a big, muddy field, hopefully after I've just laid some random bird (in her tent not mine). This really wouldn't look out of place on a Super-Hero flick's soundtrack; in fact it'd be perfect for the DareDevil sequel, adding emotion that Ben Affleck's infamously lifeless acting could only dream of.
On the whole, you have to be impressed by these jittering Jocks as their demo shows them to be an accomplished set of musicians who know how to add lots of cheese to their gritty rawkmanship to ensure pop-appeal. Somebody buy them a Tennant's Super (and me an award for harsh, cliché-ridden stereotyping). Och Aye indeedy, Donald where's me feckin truwsers!