Slaves songs are machine-tooled provocation devices, designed to prod the foreheads of every member of their audience and demand a stronger commitment to the moment, and an improvement to everything. They are short, direct, punchy and deliberately uncluttered by excess, most notably the kind of excess that comes from having more than two people in a punk rock band.
Isaac Holman and Laurie Vincent launched their first attacks from Tunbridge Wells in 2012, booking their own uncompromising shows in various grungy venues up and down the country—and demanding the attention of Â鶹ԼÅÄ Introducing along the way—while wearing immaculately-tailored shirts and suits. It’s a world away from the dressed-down distressed denim, larking about and ironic T-shirts of modern day punk rock and with good reason. This is a serious business.
Slaves songs are machine-tooled provocation devices, designed to prod the foreheads of every member of their audience and demand a stronger commitment to the moment, and an improvement to everything. They are short, direct, punchy and deliberately uncluttered by excess, most notably the kind of excess that comes from having more than two people in a punk rock band.
Isaac Holman and Laurie Vincent launched their first attacks from Tunbridge Wells in 2012, booking their own uncompromising shows in various grungy venues up and down the country—and demanding the attention of Â鶹ԼÅÄ Introducing along the way—while wearing immaculately-tailored shirts and suits. It’s a world away from the dressed-down distressed denim, larking about and ironic T-shirts of modern day punk rock and with good reason. This is a serious business.
