Macaca Mulatta

Yes, and then I checked my email to find a short story in the form of a press release from a man with the exotic name of Chris Chinchilla (who was once of Art Brut), and for a moment I thought I would have to pack my bags again for another whirlwind trip to the Orient to dabble with red-haired British aristocrats adrift in a sea of imperial meaninglessness, but no! Instead I found myself listening to a demo of a band by the name of Macaca Mulatta, and the trip was not to the stifling heat of voluminous and threatening eastern gardens, but to stuffy and undersized city garages, where hearing your mate's neighbour's band roar through songs like 'Dancing on a Weeknight' makes you check your watch so as not to be late at the darkly-lit pub, where Paul Weller will play with the Dead Kennedys, and give out about governments and the price of a pint at the same time. And the pub stays open all night!

Defeated
Dancing on a Weeknight
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