The Automatic, purveyors of slightly mathy, slightly bleepy indie rock, Mindie as it's known... like touring. Really really. Not content with spending most of April and May eating curled up sandwiches and cold pizza in the back of a van, they're back out again in June!
There's only three reasons for doing a shit load of touring, you either have nowhere to live, no girlfriend / boyfriend, or you 'love playing music'. Ok, I know the last one's pretty far fetched, so audience people, go see them, pay your £5 towards their deposit and give em a fierce snog while you're there. That's the spirit.
Some things never change, thank the god of rock. Thirty years after forming Whitesnake, David Coverdale – now 56 – is back after a ten-year break to thrust the Big Salami back in our faces. Big balls prevail.
This ‘anniversary’ album is every inch the cockrocker’s handbook, predominantly created by a man undeterred by age and encouraged, no doubt, by the appalling travesty that was The Darkness, whose only good turn to music was to inspire the indignant, mass return of all real metal bands. This, of course, led to guitar rock’s omnipresence in the naughties. No bad thing. It is now hip to like metal.