The Peckham Cowboys - Flog it

This isn't a new album, but as it was sorely overlooked when it was released and the band are about to return with their sophomore outing and a tour then it's deserving of a revisit.

So what's the deal?

Well The Peckham Cowboys are pretty much the definitive bad boy band in the classic rock and roll mould, and a bit more than that.
To be completely frank about it debauchery rarely sounded so intoxicatingly attractive to the ears.

Everything they do hangs by a thread, or their studio recordings would lead you to believe this.

You could imagine that wherever they go that there's a trail of wreckage left in their wake.

Broken dreams, broken hearts and broken bottles is currency in their world.

When you tick off a list of the bands who wear their rock and roll outlaw status on their sleeves for the world to see it's actually difficult to fit this band in with them.

The unintentional remit seems to be to take the template that they hammered out and use it as a launching pad to anarchic oblivion.

For some it may be a little too much, a little too dangerous.

If you want to get on board with them then there's no pretense that everything is going to be all right.

Flog it is an acid drenched, vodka shot to the eyeball at 3am. 

It's a shotgun butt to the head and a mind fuck of a trip through the fevered dreams of Hunter S Thompson, but only if Hunter was a black seventy year old blues man from Mississippi who had a sixteen year old girlfriend and a hard on for punk rock and burning shit down to the ground.

So yeah, pretty much the dogs bollocks really.