FFO: Bruiser – Calliope

County Durham’s sleazy garage disco-rockers Bruiser drop their latest single, Calliope.

The track explodes from the off, its lo‑fi garage production delivering a raw, distorted punch as crashing beats and relentless riffs barrel forward with ferocity, while a cleaner, melodic vocal cuts through the chaos and rides the surging waves of rock ’n’ roll mayhem with sharp, irresistible energy.

Here, the band try and encapsulate the energy of this track using three other tracks…

MC5 – Kick Out the Jams

This was an easy place to start and the raw energy of the MC5 is at the root of the Bruiser sound. This, along with the Stooges, really helped frame the attitude and aggression of the music we’re trying to make. It’s crazy to think that their label chose to put this live record out as their debut album, and the studio records that followed sound almost lightweight compared to it. There’s no polish or restraint. It’s brutal, immediate and completely alive. We sometimes say that a Bruiser live show should feel like being hit in the face with a shovel, in the nicest possible way. It should be loud, physical and slightly overwhelming, not a careful reproduction of the recordings. The MC5 captured that better than almost anybody, more than half a century ago. So, this track sets the blueprint for the Bruiser sound: plug in, turn up, and make the room feel it.

The White Stripes – Black Math

The White Stripes are probably an obvious comparison being a two-piece making a huge amount of noise. We even started wearing stripes in our live shows and we suspect it’s a subconscious nod to Meg and Jack. It’s funny, there seem to be many more duos around now. Death From Above 1979, Lightning Bolt, Blood Red Shoes, Honeyblood, Cowboy Hunters, the list goes on. Maybe that partly reflects people’s busy lives when they’re getting started, juggling real life with creative projects is hard. Getting seven musicians into one rehearsal room is practically a military operation, so working as a duo keeps the admin to a minimum.

Black Math has massive swagger and frantic energy, but underneath it there’s a wonderfully sleazy swing. You just know Meg White wasn’t playing to a click when they recorded it, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. The beat pushes, pulls and lurches rather than sitting obediently on a grid. That human instability is exactly what Anna brought to Bruiser. The White Stripes’ recording philosophy also shaped our album: work quickly, impose limits and capture the excitement before you polish it away. We recorded the whole thing in a single day, using fairly basic kit, and recorded only three takes of each song. What you hear is what we played. Not unlike the MC5 record too, I guess. Ryan Siddall (from Bugman – another duo!) once said, ‘Good music doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to be released.’ That’s largely why we’re putting it out there, imperfections and all. Do the thing and move on. Actually, that’s not a bad name for the album.

Leo Sayer – One Man Band

This iteration of Bruiser began during lockdown with me working in my home studio, amusing myself during those strange days inside by trying to figure out how to make the most noise I could as one person. From that challenge, the three-amp pedal board was born and I paired it with a drum machine to set the tempo and the groove. And I spent hours playing this set of songs into my computer and through my headphones, wondering if I’d ever play them live. And then I did, but the live version felt too controlled with a drum machine, it lacked chaos. Bringing Anna in let them breathe. Her contribution is gloriously unhinged: she doesn’t merely keep time; she brings movement, personality and danger.

When I was spending those hours in my spare room, this song kept reverberating around my head while I was doing it, because that’s what I thought I was. It’s a song I remember from my childhood. We had a cassette copy of Leo Sayer’s Just a Boy album, and I remember being drawn to the childlike sketch of Leo on the cover before putting it on. This was the only song I remembered from that record but it’s funny how sometimes a melody and a phrase sticks with you for decades. I didn’t know until recently that it was actually first recorded by Roger Daltry, and I think that adds an additional bit of cool to it. But there was something lovely about reconnecting with the song during lockdown. It joined the child who was fascinated by his parents’ music collection to the older fellah shut in his home studio, rediscovering the urge to make music. From that slightly peculiar one-man band came the songs, and eventually, once Anna arrived to knock them sideways, Bruiser.