Yippeeeee! More glucose-endorsing music to feed my current, and rather perturbing, Green Day/Simple Plan fascination. Jez Ashurst, Farrah's frontman, has only one lung - one lung! One! - which is an even more amazing feat given the high-octane playground energy of their music; a rush I've only once had the chance to witness before, and that was when my hamster Scrabble, on a mission to re-incarnate herself as a mammal version of Houdini, ran out from her hiding place under the kitchen sink to snatch a small segment of chocolate (intended to coax her back to her proper home of The Cage) from my fingers only to speed back to her haven under the hot-water pipes.
In 'First and Last', Jez's innocent, small-fluffy-Labrador vocals are of the wonderfully cute sort normally belonging to a scrubbed-up, coiffeured sixteen-year-old sweetheart asking a girl to dance with him at junior prom. The lollipop fizz of 'He Gives An Inch's simply brilliant harmonies bounces like the ringlets of a primary-school girl's pigtails as she skips down the garden path to greet the ice cream man who, for one day only, is dishing out free Slush Puppy to all houses in the neighbourhood.
But don't go thinking that these kids are throwaway teeny trash - their delightfully poppy melodies, though whipped to a frothiness deserving of a chocolate mousse, are home to some openly and simply heartfelt lyrics - "Everybody's got a cross to bear, something that we carry from the past / They hammer in the nails and leave them there, you were my first you were my last". As someone with something of an inherent dislike for Richard and Judy myself, 'Daytime TV', a summer gazebo anthem of hatred for those poor souls who sit on a couch reliant on the box for a good time, I can't help but laugh out loud at the lyrics "Judy talks about her haemorrhoids on TV - Richard turns and nods his head so tactfully". Here's a band who have evidently decided to do something better with their lives than remain on their pert little asses during primetime, instead infiltrating the ears of anyone who cares for a great, stroppy pop tune with their fruit-gum genius.
Energised, inspired and obsessed with moustaches, Farrah provide us with a big rubber bouncy ball of fun. Now please revert to your childhood and buy a skipping rope.