Instantly infectious, pure pop quality, completely knocked out… Wrexham is the gift that keeps on giving of late with a production line of genre crossing bands all with a royal seal of approval, and Baby Brave are no exception.
I wandered around the empty streets at 6pm on this Wednesday afternoon. All the shops are closed and the hundreds of death-by-kebab houses prepare for an evening of trade and tirade. The silence is broken by an endless charade of dumb boy racers with their loud exhausts, forever circling the town looking for prey to show off to.