Tag Archive: Mother Dirt


Best of British: Kailin

Yet again we return to my home town of Worcester with the mighty Kailin. This is honestly news to me, but it was a pleasant surprise to find they are contemporaries of such Midlands greats as Mother Dirt, AZWAI and Chronographs.

They also list such other British bands as Volumes, Devil Sold His Soul, Architects and The Arusha Accord as influences: keeping it in the family – we like this!

There’s also definitely a djenty tone to them, but I can definitely hear some God Is An Astronaut-tinged soaring guitar lines in this track too:

Kailin – Remnants by Kailin

- CG

Best of British: Mother Dirt

Holy shitballs. I can’t believe I haven’t featured Malvern’s own heinous punk necro-doom bastards Mother Dirt yet in this column – but consider my grave mistake rectified.

The past two years or so have seen this hairy, beardy five-piece write some of the gnarliest, most disgustingly obscene riffs – in a disused cow shed of all places – braving giant rats and freezing conditions to bring you their own particular brand of…well, I don’t really know what it is. You’re better off giving them a listen for yourself to be honest.

There’s a new record in the works; a follow up to their untitled demo, of which one of the above tracks are taken. Want the rest? Then download the motherfucker from here (a live version, recorded at London’s Purple Turtlea while back). I actually reviewed it as one of my first articles here, and I stand by what I said then 100%: “utterly horrible. But in a good way”. I believe there are some alternate download links there, so get the fuck involved!

Make sure you hit them up on Facebook and tell ‘em we sent you!

- CG

Hemingway: may or may not have been a robot.

So. Bands break up. It sucks, but that’s the way of things. For most of them, the reason is pure and simple; on some level, they suck. Whether it’s only a little, or harder than a $20 hooker, it doesn’t matter; the world doesn’t lose a whole bunch. The members go on with their lives, and probably go on to make a greater impact in other areas of society. Like serving me burgers.

Then there are bands that are forced into submission for other reasons: money, conflict – both personal and artistic – or sometimes the fanbase only comes after they’re long gone.

This is a chronicle of those bands. Most you will not have heard of, for the very reason that they’re not even around to promote themselves any more. But trust me, they are bands that you really really should have heard of.

Welcome to November! It’s about that time of year when the high-street shops start putting up their decorations, so in that spirit: jingle bells – it’s Pushmeunder!

Disclaimer: there’s usually a picture here. These guys were so underground I don’t even have a picture of them…

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Self-proclaimed “noisy sons of bitches” and all-round horrible-sounding grind/hardcore band Mother Dirt took to the studio last weekend to record material for an upcoming release.

You may or may not remember me mentioning these guys a few months back, when they were offering their music for free. Deal’s still on as far as I know, including their EP and an awesome set of live recordings.

They’re a dirty, horrible sounding band that want to rape your ears until they’re quivering wrecks trying to hide under your sidesweep. Looovely!

Anyway, they recorded the process for your enjoyment in a series of videos which can be found below.

It’s all sounding pretty dirty, like…well, your mother. There, I said it. Check out more after the jump, for sandwich porn, riffs, and feedback.

- CG

AZWAI – The HBIH Interview

Local music scenes are funny things. For the most part they are wildly hit and miss, but growing up I was blessed with a fairly diverse and talented one: one that has inbred time and time again, recycling members, nurturing talent like some rapey old school janitor with a hunchback and a frog for a wife.

AZWAI are the six-fingered middle child of the Worcestershire music scene. There are hills. There are woods. Plenty of places to hide your incestuous progeny; perhaps in a cow shed in the middle of nowhere?

This is where I found Malvern’s very own bastard sons – [corresponding to the photo above] Dan Stokes, Adam Murkin, Craig Taylor and Dan Taylor [unrelated. Or so they say. See above paragraph.] – slavering over their instruments and sodomising a dead rat. Luckily they were in a ‘playful’ mood, and after placating them with the latest Hollyoaks calendar, they agreed to answer a few questions.

[End of hyperbole. Ish]

CG: AsZerosWeAreInfinite is not what you might call a usual name. How and why did you choose it in particular?

AdamDS: It’s based on a mathematical theory known as ‘God math’, which talks about zero as being an infinite number. In the beginning we just wanted to write hardcore but the more we wrote, and specifically the more technical our music got, the more the name stuck.

AM: Well in honesty, it was either that or ‘I’m A Pterodactyl’. We went for the one with the better acronym.

How did you all get started in music? What drew you to the heavier end of the musical spectrum?

DS: We stumbled across rock music in high school like everyone else, and found like-minded people. I began writing music when I was fifteen. I found that my tastes became more and more violent the older and grumpier I got, and that I had a burning desire to constantly push myself to the very edge of my abilities; writing songs I could barely play. Eventually, we wanted the music we wrote to cause an emotional reaction out of the people listening and the easiest emotion to provoke from a crowd is anger. We’ve always thought that anger and passion go hand in hand and we’re all very passionate people.

CT: Slipknot. End of.

God By Any Other Name

Between my crooked teeth

And self-prophecised lies

You will discover salvation for your ache

What is it about Malvern that produces such a plethora of brilliant bands and musicians?

AM: Must be the water…

DS: I think its because it’s ‘small town syndrome’. We all live in this town where there isn’t much to do apart from drink and listen to music, so eventually you have a whole gaggle of people in the same generation feeling the same frustrations of being from nowhere special. A band seems like the perfect place to vent those feelings and turn them into something constructive. Of course I could be way off and it could just be the water. The Queen does drink it. But I doubt she’s in a Converge cover band…

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Dead People In Your House

I’ve mentioned before that there are decent number of awesome bands – certainly more than our fair share – where I come from.

So far I’ve mentioned AZWAI and Mother Dirt, who in my opinion are the best of the bunch. Although not my favourites, the next band on my list – one Deacon Birch – are probably the best known, and certainly draw the largest crowds. Their shows are always a blast, especially when you throw the first two into the mix in a very small room with an extremely low ceiling.

They’ve not released a huge amount – mainly just a split 7″ with the now defunct Emerald Eye (the tracks from which are available on their Myspace) – but the song I wanted to share with you today is probably their best, and it is charmingly titled Corpses in the Walls.

From what I can gather, it’s an homage to Norma Jean‘s Murderotica (An Avalanche in D Minor), but with their own twist on the lyrics.

The video is pretty rad too, put together by the vocalist of Mother Dirt in fact. This is the kind of environment our musicians write and practice in; bands of the world take note!

- CG

“Mother Dirt is a result of too many line-up changes, alcohol and substance abuse and a general lack of faith in everybody and everything. Fast as fuck, loud as fuck, unholy sons of bitches, fuck you.” – Dan Best, Mother Dirt


Born in a tiny town in the dark hills of Worcestershire, Mother Dirt, in their own words sound like “some kind of bastardised necro doom punk.”

I don’t know what it is about our little arse-end of nowhere, but the past few years has seen Malvern churn out more than its fair share of damn good bands. From your AZWAIs, your Deacon Birches and your Push Me Unders at the heavier end of the spectrum, to more expansive artists like Orbit: Dear Beacon. I can pretty much guarantee you won’t have heard of most of them, but that’s besides the point. These bands don’t do it for the glory; they do it because there’s fuck all else to do when you live in a field.

Mother Dirt are not for everyone. In fact, they’re utterly horrible. But in a good way. They are as dirty as both their name might suggest, and as the cow shed they use as a practice space. I don’t really have a basis for comparison I can offer you bar that their vocalist sounds like Jacob Bannon with a throat full of barbed wire. Their EP has absolutely no title bar the moniker above, but it’s angry, full of contempt and should probably come with a health warning. I doubt they care what you think of the recording quality (which is raw, to put it lightly), but it really doesn’t matter with this kind of brutality – in fact, it’s kind of the point.

Live, they’re on a different level. I believe at their last gig a banister got destroyed. I’ve seen blood and beer flying, and everyone in the room fucking loves it.

  1. Belly Crawler
  2. Tomb
  3. Fallen
  4. 5 Bar Prison Blues

You’re not likely to ever get your hands on a copy, so hit the link below if you think you’re ‘ard enough. As an extra treat, you can also download their live set from The Purple Turtle in London last year over at their Last.fm page. Better quality, equally as nasty.

Myspace // Last.fm // Download

- CG

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