narcs coast to coast

Having impressed tastemakers last year with their debut album ‘Two Birds, One Stone Later’ and its resulting launch show, Leeds-based four-piece NARCS have just released ‘Coast To Coast’, the final single to be taken from ‘Two Birds…’. Described as “the swansong of an old couple who refuse to face  modern reality”, ‘Coast To Coast’ is one of the band’s strongest singles to date, the crisp production complimenting the candour of the lyricism fantastically.

With little intro to speak of, it takes no time at all for the fully-fleshed out nature of the band to really come to the fore in a crashing melodious tumult; singer Wilko’s heavy Leeds accent providing an edge to an otherwise pristine composition. There’s a definite sense of the band going through a maturing process here too, the lyrics seemingly more touching than previous releases, as if they’ve allowed the gritty greyness of their home-town to take a back-seat in favour of something not necessarily optimistic, but certainly something more emotionally tangible.

The flip-side to ‘Coast To Coast’ is ‘Souvenir’. Feeling more akin to past singles from the band, a post-punk paranoia runs riot throughout the entirety of the track; frenetic guitars lead up to a fretboard-spanning solo that brings to mind a depoliticised Rage Against The Machine and is more in keeping with any expectations of Leeds-based acts, who, as a whole, seem more inclined to lean towards the heavier side of the alternative scene.

As a result, ‘Coast To Coast’ is the highlight of the release (also included are a handful of live recordings, giving the record that little bit more bang for your buck). However, it really does fall at the feet of ‘Coast To Coast’ to be the main selling point here, a crisp and candid track which really suggests that NARCS are capable of going beyond any weak Arctic Monkeys comparisons that might befall them, and truly making a name for themselves off the strength of their music and the strength of their music alone.

About The Author

Dave Beech

Having spent my formative years torn between crying in my bedroom to tedious early '00s emo records and playing in a couple of terrible punk bands, I decided I was far better suited to writing about music than playing it. Now, approaching my mid-twenties all of a sudden, armed with little more than an unhealthy penchant for sarcasm and an acquired taste for warm cider, I can mostly be found haunting the unsigned circuit of Manchester as often as I can the city's bigger venues, championing those bands who don't quite get the attention they deserve, as much as panning those who get too much. Twitter: @dave__beech