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Goat Girl’s sound is one far removed the urban settings the band frequent, their debut record engulfs with the bubbles and squelches of a quagmire, and at times guitar riffs and nonchalant vocals coo and caw like The Wild West. Despite this, though, they remain one of the capital’s most exciting and singular guitar bands. Savagery! Depravity! Debauchery! All is on show for the world to see; the Creep with ‘his dirty trouser stains’, and the higgledy piggledy world of The Man With No Brain or Heart, all coming direct to you with a hefty dosage of Country Sleaze.

The seediness of Goat Girl’s music does sonically allude to a tilted Leone western, but it’s difficult to typecast the band with the ten-a-penny country garage outfits that frequent backwaters pubs. Goat Girl’s country-western sensibility is mixed with an eye for the uncanny, rip roaring psychobilly is juxtaposed with bizarre skits which revolve around piano loops, liminal guitar hiccups and vocal scraps, making this not a collection of songs, but a wholly unique listening experience as difficult to make full sense of as the ghoulies and spectres that adorn it’s technicolour cover illustration.

Goat Girl have reached a perfect balance of weird little skits and sketchy ideas, and bona fide great tunes. Viper Fish is a personal highlight, a woozy number with vocal harmonies that spook and a guitar riff that protrudes through the gloaming with its torrefying tones, whilst murky banger Cracker Drool is simply perfect.

The 411 on Goat Girl is thus; a refreshing take on rock ‘n’ roll for fans of The Fat Whites or Country Teasers, but with a sense of humour that extends to playful riffs and strangeness that extends to every second of the album. If Goat Girl make it as big as some of Rough Trade’s other recent signings, then the world can rejoice.

You can read our interview with Goat Girl in Issue 1, out May 4th, alongside a host of other album reviews.

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Salutations one and all.

We now have only a handful left of physical copies, and believe that sharing the magazine online for all to see is long overdue.

Read our interviews with favourites Goat Girl, Warmduscher, Madonnatron, Peeping Drexels, Honkies, Go Chi Minh, and Ye Nuns, as well as the rest of our maiden voyage into the print frontier.

We now squirrel away into our secret lair, SW20, and work on the difficult second. More details to follow.

Get in touch if you want to join our league of co-conspirators.

You can pick up one of the last few copies at


"I'm a West Ham supporter... or is it Aston Villa? You can see right through me, I'm like a glass of water."
Upon discovering The Cool Greenhouse, I felt like I had discovered the very pinnacle of DIY post-punk; looked into its soul and seen the finished article. Songs that touch cloth with the 10 minute mark, often feature the same frustrated guitar riff over and over from beginning to end, whilst simply being a breeding ground for some of the strangest and most astute lyrical hot takes.

'Cardboard Man' is a classic of this genre. 6 minutes of monotone Delta 5 riffing, in a shotgun marriage with retro bleeps and bloops, whilst frontman Tom Greenhouse assembles an array of caustic cut up one liners that take cheap shots at all the morally bankrupt, devious, 'Cardboard' men (questioning too, whether he is also cardboard – I think we're all a bit cardboard, baby).

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Greetings, ahoy, it is us. SEE YOU MATE has been dormant for the Summer months, but take this as warm hibernation and not a cold and brutal death. Issue 2 is in production and our quest continues.

During our absense, music still happened. Non-stop. We have fallen behind and are only just catching up, but here's a playlist of our favourite songs that caught us napping


HEAR! Jerskin Fendrix, the greatest show. SEE! Gazelle Twin's folk horror depravity in all it's dayglo glory. WITNESS! Black Midi and their many, many contortions.