BANGING ON MY DOOR

Taken from the album High Hazels.

Inherently northern, High Hazels from Handsworth are boys who horde priceless guitars, but can’t afford the bus fare home, rehearse dry George Harrison barbs in the bathroom mirror, read the Angling Times, and go to their Nan’s for Sunday dinner.  Songwriting awash with the desires of youth, yet maturity beyond their years, reflects a myriad of winsome blithe. With one ear on the dancehall beat-groups of the late 1950s and early ’60s and the other on the tightly knit and more discerning indie gangs of the post-Smiths era, on a Saturday night the streets are theirs and all hearts are decided before last orders. Navigating raw northern landscapes with a melancholic prowess, the band’s chiming undulating guitars romanticise the urban sprawl and industrial decay.