Weeeelllllll, I think this sets the record for "Most Overdue Post" by about 10 months. I've never heard of squatter punks holing up in a library, but apparently anything's possible in Yorkshire. As their name might suggest, The Wind-Up Birds have read a book or two, and that translates into hyper-literate lyrics that are as much poem as they are prose, and filled with a poignant English wit. Their songs can ramble, jangle, and squeal. Sometimes they blur the line between (please excuse the useless genre pigeonholing) indie-rock and post-punk, and sometimes you might have to pull out the old Oxford English Dictionary lest you get beaten with it, but for the educated drunk, The Wind-Up Birds will be your new favourite band.
In a Yorkshire Call Centre I Knelt Down and Wept .mp3
This Boat is Going Nowhere Tonight, Son .mp3
Sound like a good way to get through the winter? There's currently an EP and 7" out on Sturdy Records, both of which John Peel would undoubtedly blare whilst pissed.
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