Trash City: MFC Chicken "Music For Chicken"
I first came across MFC Chicken playing in a dank pit in London last year, the place was hot, I was drunk and it sounded like I'd wandered into the Spanish Castle Ballroom in Seattle. They play the kind of loud, greasy, sax-driven white boy R&B that was heard in halls all over the northwest of America in the early 60s.
I knew it would only be a matter of time before somebody scooped them up for a record..
Dirty Water got there first and ordered a platterful of deep-fried northwest raunch with a side of souped-up intros. The album opener Chicken, Baby, Chicken begins as it means to go on... "One chicken, two chicken, one chicken, two chicken, three chicken, four chicken..." Who needs meaningful lyrics when you've got Col. Spencer wailing on sax?
The whole album reeks like a Holloway Road chicken shack of the sounds the godfathers of grind, The Sonics, would have cut their teeth on.. from the nutty instro of â€œWild Safariâ€ to the straight up Fabulous Wailers buzz Royal We. That's not to say it's derivative, MFC definitely have their own spin on it, the whole album is filled with the kind of raw humour that would make Chuck Berry blush.
There's not much else I can say about this record other than that I fucking love it and you are going to love it too.
One million stars.