The self-titled debut from Manchester-based college students, ‘Working Men’s Club’, is here and it’s festering. What better time for the well gigged four-piece to send you a bottle of dance floor sweat than during a time when live music doesn’t exist and everyone is craving it. Bring the party home with this teenage dance floor rock. Working Men’s Club are known locally in Manchester for their energy seething sets as the in-house band at Manchester’s trendiest, most in-the-know venue, ‘YES’, playing under the same roof as the likes of ‘Black Country, New Road’, ‘Shame’ and ‘Fat White Family’.
The album sounds like an indie band that has fallen off, bought a synth, a drum machine and given making a dance album their best shot, coming out the ever end of their dangerous experiment a reformed, yet more addled, version of themselves. Sultry synth lines in ‘Tomorrow’ shine over temperamental pseudo-political lyrics teasing to an image in your mind of a Joy Division poster clad single bedroom. But on the other wall is a poster ripped and dogeared poster of The Fall which is framed from the chain-link guitars in ‘Cook a Coffee’. The second track, ‘A.A.A.A’, screams the loudest shriek on the ten-track bill as it proves more difficult to liken to any previous Manchester outfit. The electrified zing and hollow bassline wouldn’t be out of place in an industrial techno set.
Working Men’s Club have gifted us with an album of bedroom jitters but certainly nothing we jittered to before.
words: Johnny Fry