‘Pride of Nowhere’ is easily my favourite album of the year so far, so here’s a wee reprint of the review I did for NME that ran in the paper a few weeks ago.
The Smoking Hearts
‘Pride Of Nowhere’ (George Street)
Sounding like the kind of band who’d make sweet love to your sister and then thieve your Poison Idea records afterwards, London-based sleaze punks The Smoking Hearts’ debut ‘Pride Of Nowhere’ is 29 minutes of mayhem that kicks more ass than a Steven Seagal highlight reel. Utterly monstrous from start to finish, their brand of Valient Thorr or Zeke-esque guitar-mangling marks them out as worthy contenders to take Gallows’ Kings Of British Punk crown. The likes of ‘Daddy’s Little Disaster’ are so potent they could provoke Ken Barlow to shave his head, get inked up and jump in the pit. Frank Carter had better watch his back.
8 out of 10