Brighton gargantuans KEG race with wit on ‘Presidential Walk’, taken from their upcoming EP.

The collective grooves of seven post-punkers yields a fruitful run through the Wikipedia coffers.

Words: Varun Govil | Photo: Katie Allen

In an increasingly over-saturated field of post-punk rockers, Brighton outfit KEG’s monstrously large line-up stands tall in the proverbial guitar-music skyline. With a mammoth collection of musicians featuring jazzy trombones, spiralling bass, and accented vocals, taking in everything that the band has to offer can certainly seem overwhelming. Somehow, though, rather than contributing to a collective chaos, each sound that the devilish seven-piece produces is bouncy, exuberant, and undeniably purposeful. 

After the release of their debut single, Heyshaw, KEG’s aim seemed clear: smash together a boundless trove of quirky experiences with the relentlessly chirpy sounds of the seaside. As they tumble into the rapid-fast opening of Presidential Walk, it’s obvious that their latest rager clearly meets their mission statement. As singer Albert Haddenham helpfully explains, the track is “an ode to Wikipedia and a French president’s annual cerebral walk.. The track has been through a few versions, gradually speeding up each time until it reached the rabbit speed you will hear”. While musically and lyrically dense, at no point do the antics of the band detract from the surreal fun of the music or the subject matter.

With break-neck verses, spiralling post-choruses of jazzy ambience, and Haddenham’s narratorial voice, the group have managed to capture exactly that elusive feeling of trawling through internet archives. As the last squawk of trombones fade out on the close of the track, you get the hunch that the arrival of the band’s debut EP later this year may just be a landmark moment.