Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *
Chaos is the random art of unexpected beauty, the commotion that can be handled and ordered but to which somehow you let gather pace because when you see it unfold you start to understand that confusion is the Salvador Dali painting made universal and the turmoil of structure rebelling against itself. It is the dam that breaks, the hundred school children in a hall with one teacher, the island that sits in judgement on a group of boys and turns them to savages and chaos is at its finest when you appreciate that This Is What Happens When a Fly Lands In your Food.
For Oldham’s Drink and Drive, chaos is the well ordered box of chocolates shook up and its wrappers swapped round, everybody’s favourite hard centre becoming the soft cream toffee of choice.
Despite being around for quite some time, Drink and Drive’s This Is What Happens When a Fly Lands In your Food is brimming with all the expectancy of debut appeal as one could hope; fitting well within its scope for brutal observation, D.I.Y ethic in the great tradition of the Punk and the unfashionable, the true heroes of the age for they have nothing to fear.
In tracks such as Town Centre Drinker, Stars Without Makeup, The Sum Of All Our Peers, Leech Farm and Fritzl House the convincing nature of the band’s appeal strides forth and devours any resistance in its path. The cutting tone of the songs is one basked in the wonder of assertiveness and gentlemanly antagonism, epic and fighting off, as well as parading in, the oppressive and fierceness of the world of the repressed politician and the two fingered salute in earnest glee when they are staring at us in the face.
This Is What Happens When a Fly Lands In your Food is chaos but it is tremendously enjoyable, to see it happen is comedy gold, especially when it is the soup of one who looks down upon all others. Sarcastic, biting, a sense of pure in the region of the damned and the inevitability that all must look down the ladder to see where true strength lays, the person holding the whole edifice up is the one least hurt when they decide to let the ladder go.
Ian D. Hall