These Londoners arrive with a more droll and organic take on the current post-post-punk revolution. Good thing, too--that's exactly what the scene needs. Over the now-standard stiffened rock drums, Switches issue bilious guitar salvos and wry rock growls that recall Marc Bolan.
Most four-year-olds would turn up, stick some plasticine up their nose, piss in the sandpit and fill four hours happily smacking a plastic truck with a squeaky hammer. But not Mr & Mrs Bishop’s little boy Matt – when he wasn’t sat in a corner writing T-Rex style songs on the electric guitar his dad had built for him in spare hours off at the BBC engineering department, he was bouncing sounds back and forth between an ancient reel-to-reel and a Fisher Price tape recorder like some kind of miniature Epworth. It was, to the stunned creche supervisors, nothing short of rusk’n’roll. (more on www.switchesmusic.co.uk)