The Cuckoo Clocks

Music

General Info

Genre: Country / Pop / Showtunes
Location Sheffield, Un
Profile Views: 13136
Last Login: 5/17/2012
Member Since 9/1/2008
Website http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LnR1bWJsci5jb20vYmxvZy9jdWNrb29jbG9ja3NiYW5k
Record Label None
Type of Label Unsigned
Bio
"Fantastical" Richard Hawley "Weird and wonderful" Rob da Bank (BBC Radio 1) Originally the eccentric brainchild of Paul Infanti (from much missed John Peel favourites, Treebound Story) and DJ/producer Sophie Toes (Sheffield's foremost queen of the Mixer), Cuckoo Clocks have since become a fully-fledged 6 piece symphonic beast, blending beautifully naive clockwork rhythms with definitive super glue melodies to create a pastoral Garden Wall Of Sound. Educated comparisons have travelled from Velvet Underground to Simon & Garfunkel; Television to Fun Boy Three, and after a much anticipated debut show at Sheffield legendary beat venue, Club 60, the band went on to organize their own sell-out show- a spectacular vaudeville cabaret at Sheffield's Lantern Theatre. Now the band are working towards the release of their debut album due in June 2011. With the troubadour of the Kitsch & Sync as your guide, enter a world where the Mellow Mystic moves fast but never runs, the Golden Lady ticks as The Strong Arm of the pendulum tocks, the Soothsayer Mystic conjures impressions before your very eyes- standing loyally before the queen of the mallets and keeper of the keys. Ladies And Gentlemen, The Cuckoo Clocks! Softly surreal- like something from the mind of a peculiarly English Terry Gilliam- the band draw influences from the other worldly and subtly strange, creating an original style which suggests a visual narrative that inspired Word Magazine writer and music critic John McCready to create a gently twisted story for a world where the clocks tick backwards and nothing is quite what it seems. (See myspace for the full version www.myspace.com/thecuckooclocksuk). Out where the road becomes a lane and the lane a track, you find yourself checking your watch. Time seems to forget to press on so mercilessly. You worry that you're not worrying. Pick up a stick and trail it along. Say hello to an old man in an older coat who smiles like he knows you. On the trail ahead, heat haze outlines of people you expect to meet have gone by the time you get to them. There's a bustle in your hedgerow, but whatever it was has slid elsewhere before you can discern shape or size. "Loving these tunes, Well done!!!" Mark Stoney "Lovely beach boys feel! very pleasing indeed and most necessary in times like these. (3.50am to be precise). " Tom Rodwell, Storehouse Blues "Blimey, Lou Reed collaboration with Psapp, Who'd have thought it eh? Very Nice." Nick Hollywood, Freshly Squeezed Music "Sounding nice over here, keep it up" Lee Berwick, Digidub "A Knock Out Show" Simon Stafford (Joe Strummer/The Long Pigs/Jarvis Cocker) "One of my favourite Sheffield bands, I really, really want to play this record" Richard Hawley BBC 6 Music
Members
Paul Infanti (Tree Bound Story), Sophie Toes Richard Gibson (Antique Doll), Nicky Bee (The Human League) Andrew Flude (Peter Green/Van Morrison)
Influences
small spaces and campo viejo .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ......
Sounds Like
From the centre of the city, down behind the terraces, through bin lined ginnels, across allotments, and into overgrown lanes of parched yellow grass (where berries piquant and possibly poisonous sometimes grow) the code of the banker collecting numbers in endless columns, the market trader shuffling bruised fruits at bargain prices, the school bunking boys and girls sharing the Beyonce blare of cheap mobile phones, the lunchtime office types crunching the last of crisps and late at 1.59, the bus driver at the lights dreaming of Alicante, the tired grey pavements, the clank of scaffolding and the gusts of dust that remind you that hell really is a city, there is another way. Out where the road becomes a lane and the lane a track, you find yourself checking your watch. Time seems to forget to press on so mercilessly. You worry that you're not worrying. Pick up a stick and trail it along. Say hello to an old man in an older coat who smiles like he knows you. On the trail ahead, heat haze outlines of people you expect to meet have gone by the time you get to them. There's a bustle in your hedgerow, but whatever it was has slid elsewhere before you can discern shape or size. There's laughter beyond that wood across the way but nothing sinister. Though darkness here might rattle the nerves of a bank robber. Houses huddle and lean along a road where cars must wait to pass one at a time. Too small to be a village. The clouds slide silently across the purest porcelain blue. Between gingham curtains washing dishes wired as you like, a woman sniffs sharply. Her kids drag toys across the garden as she looks out. She doesn't have a cold. On the drive, her husband is daubed in oil and rolling beneath a car jacked up. A tear rolls down his cheek and his spanner clanks against the exhaust. Nothing's broken. It's just a place to hide. In the house next door, a man is bored and bathing in the harsh light of an opened fridge. There's nothing he really wants in there though it's so full the door barely closes. His mind is elsewhere. On someone else. Dreaming of what might be. The clock chimes the hour. A small wooden bird with a red round head springs out just like always. Love is hope and hope is patient. The last possible drop of silence is wrung from the afternoon before the distant boom of a drum and the sound of voices singing salvation builds. They're coming up the lane. The kids in the garden exit safety and race down the road towards them with those from the house next door and the one next to that. The band is coming, just like last summer. They won't stop but- smiling strangely as they reach a crescendo in the village- they pace relentlessly through. The children know where they have been told to stop before, but following on a hundred yards or so, hypnotised they continue. No one is watching them. Beneath the car, dad reaches out and the AM hiss of his radio gives way to that song about Phil talking. But this time gently. No martial disco beat. That was the sound of the crowd. This is the sound of a place where nothing is wrong but everything has shifted sideways and subsided sweetly. The old man in the overcoat passes the house. Mum is at the privet hedge now at the end of the garden, snapping shears distractedly. The old man nods though it's clear he's not able to see her. "It's going to rain", he says as he passes. The shears click as the children scramble past her back into the garden. They mimic the boom of the drum still marching; still exhilarated by the joyful noise as it dies away beyond the rise of the hill. "It's Cuckoo time!", one shouts as if announcing a way of life. The old man laughs, having shuffled beyond the houses. The clouds are greyer and heavy now. The thirsty yellow grass in the lanes that lead back to the city looks forward to the downpour.

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Stream

Apr 05

The Cuckoo Clocks

Free download for a limited period.

Oddperclock

via soundcloud.com

Listen to Oddperclock by Cuckoo Clocks: First single to be take from The Cuckoo Clocks' forthcoming debut album "The Madness of Order".&###x000A;&###x000A;"We'll sail towards the makers of time...

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Mar 21
The Cuckoo Clocks
played a song
Summer Dream

by The Weatherman
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Jul 12

The Cuckoo Clocks
just earned the I'm With The Band badge

I'm With The Band

You're friends with VIP status, much?
Rodriguez Laura liked this.
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Jun 07

The Cuckoo Clocks
posted an event

Tramlines Festival

07/06/2011 20:00:00
You're going You want to go
Dave Attrill liked this.
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