Dirty Water Records

Taking Music Backwards Into Tomorrow

Filtering by Tag: Pacific Northwest

Pure Rawk: MFC Chicken "It's ... MFC Chicken Time!"

Third album from Holloway-based poultry-obsessed rock ‘n’ rollers MFC Chicken, and it’s pretty much a straight continuation of their debut, 2011’s Music For Chicken, and 2013’s Solid Gravy!  There’s a bit of ‘50s style greaser rock and a bit of ‘60s garage rock in there liberally sprinkled with some honking sax, and it’s all good fun.

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Fungal Punk: MFC Chicken "Solid Gravy!"

A right bunch of cheeky fuckers here with an album to completely break down any critical codswallop and to bring forth a fervent fever of gushing praise from even the most hard boiled reviewer. Make no mistake about it, these squawking sonic shits are good, darn good indeed and really excite with their innuendoed sax fuelled rock that has an obsession with the thrills of fast food chomping. Hailing from London these dudes really do need to spread their wings and drop some sonic shit on the heads of the unaware, here is my small attempt at provocating some flapping motions.

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RingMaster Review: MFC Chicken "Lake Bears!"

Lake Bears! is just as compelling and thrilling an encounter. Its first track is Lakebears Theme and in some ways has an even more anarchic and Lake Bears Cover Spread.inddvoraciously devilish manner to its presence and sound than on the other release. Imagine Little Richard even more over excited than normal whilst Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Jerry Lee Lewis bring their own distinct slightly salacious invention, then you are close to the two minutes of rock ‘n’ roll rampage going on.

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RingMaster Review: MFC Chicken "(Get Outta The) DJ Booth"

After two ridiculously infectious and excitable slabs of rock ‘n’ roll devilry posing as albums, London based MFC Chicken in their own words “figured it was time that we gave the DJs out there something to spin when out in the wilds. A full length album is great for playing at house parties but in a sleazy cellar bar with some frantic dance floor action the DJ’s gonna want a proper vinyl 45.” So that is what the band came up with, not one but two slices of MFC Chicken revelry to ignite the dance-floor, a pair of incitements which simply throw feet and emotions into a blissful frenzy.

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I-94 Bar: MFC Chicken "Lake Bears! Theme Song"

If you believe the schtick about expat-Canadian vocalist-saxophonist Spencer Evoy meeting bassist Bret Bolton on a pilgrimage to Joe Meek’s former flat and recording studio, you’ll swallow the line that the band was named after a takeaway shop Bolton was living above. And that the pair met when Evoy was busking outside. Every band needs a back story. and it beats Mick and Keef telling record collection stories to each other on a train platform.

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Making Time: MFC Chicken "Solid Gravy!"

MFC Chicken, on the other hand, have titled SOLID GRAVY! to its record proposal, a already essential disc for fans and collectors of the Northwest sound and the original garage since MFC Chicken are sent to all wick in fourteen pieces of garage decorated with saxophone (as the first bands of garage) and with much influence of the scene of the North American coast the northwest.

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xxvii4ever: MFC Chicken "Solid Gravy!"

Solid Gravy!, MFC Chicken’s second album, continues the odd but compelling amalgam of great old-style rock and roll with chicken-themed songs that they started with 2012’s Music For Chicken. Solid Gravy! is definitely old school rock and roll with only “Dirty Little Bitch” and “Well Now” escaping the orbit of the three minute mark so that songs like “Voodoo Chicken”  jump into the room, whirl around wildly with sax in front, and jump back out again at the 1:45 mark, leaving listeners gap-mouthed and staring.

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Fungal Punk: MFC Chicken "Solid Gravy!"

A right bunch of cheeky fuckers here with an album to completely break down any critical codswallop and to bring forth a fervent fever of gushing praise from even the most hard boiled reviewer. Make no mistake about it, these squawking sonic shits are good, darn good indeed and really excite with their innuendoed sax fuelled rock that has an obsession with the thrills of fast food chomping.

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Listen With Monger: MFC Chicken "Music For Chicken"

There is a modern trend for artists to get an entire album syndicated for use on a range of advertisements (it started with Moby and now the Black Keys are taking over the world) but it's rare that a band write an entire album with this purpose in mind. However, this is exactly what MFC Chicken seem to have done with their debut offering, Music For Chicken.

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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.

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Schwindy's indie music spotlight: MFC Chicken "Music For Chicken"

MFC Chicken's self-titled album should come with the following warning: ""These songs are ridiculously catchy. Listen to it only around people who don't mind if you dance and sing along."" How catchy is this album? Any time I listen to it, I have to listen to the whole thing at least twice.

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SoundsXP: MFC Chicken "Music For Chicken"

The story of how MFC Chicken came into being is an interesting one, if we trust the press release at least. Hot off the plane from Canada, Spencer Evoy found himself outside a fried chicken shop on Holloway Road with no cash in his pockets, so he resorted to busking with the saxophone he was carrying to raise funds to satisfy his rumbling belly.

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The RingMaster Review: MFC Chicken "Music For Chicken"

Sometimes things are just meant to be and that is the strong feeling when it comes to rock n rollers MFC Chicken and the background story to the band. It all started with the arrival of Canadian Spencer Evoy who with his trusty sax in tow moved over to the UK around a year ago. On what he called a pilgrimage to the recording studio of Joe Meek he found himself outside a fried chicken shop on Holloway Road, London. With stomach yearning for the delicacies within but pockets financially incapable to fully assist, Evoy slipped out his trusty friend - his sax you naughty people - and proceeded to busk for his supper.

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