Chupa Cabra
They have a quirk without being quirky, they have an irk without being irksome… Having being introduced to them by the very quirky and irksome Arron Cooper in May, I was eager to finally catch up and witness
Chupa Cabra in the flesh.
I was late to the party… With singles only having a shelf life of a couple of months, I had missed the party by three, but I guess if you’ve not heard a release before then it is
new to you no matter how old it is.

That was the case with Chupa Cabra’s superb debut single My Girl… A great garagey sound.. Kind of psychobilly without the billy bit… Or psycho-garage if you like.
On stage they are very much the same music wise… They stick out like a sore thumb against their peers… A fantastic big red throbbing sore thumb… Beaming across the River Dee…

Chupa Cabra are cartoon characters of themselves… The drummer is like Muttley cross-bred with the mad hyenas in Lion King, the bassist like some semi-bored French artiste with the singer-guitarist drawing up his own David Byrnesque inconclusive conclusions. This all adds up to a trashy entertaining spectacle with added nonchalance and a couldn’t-give-a-fuck attitude. Throw in a disheveled version of Mr Pharmacist, You Know I’m No Good (a la Amy Winehouse) and their top notch new single Mouths To Feed and you know they are more than no good, they are very bad… In a no good way…

For added entertainment, this, being that very single launch; when I approached the singer to buy a copy he ran off… Brilliant…

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