Northern Soul is probably quite a way from the top of the average teenager’s record collection and I don’t expect it to be. With bands escaping from the womb of the music industry a dime a dozen kids don’t have time for schmaltzy soul.
Perhaps these two words may have crept into your line of vision at one time or another as you wipe the dust off your dads near ancient record collection, But for Nick Corbin of New Street Adventure it’s a lot more than a dusty discarded record – It’s a lifeline into a welcoming and utterly compromising music scene chacterised by uber cool dancing and speed fuelled weekenders – It’s also the influence behind his punch-drunk, witty pop monologues that encapsulate the aching aggression of an oppressed small town hero.
Growing up in Uckfield (Don’t ask) on a diet of abuse from rugby playing fuck-nuts, Kappa clad ASBO youths and of course the back catalogues of various Stax and Motown knee-benders he seems set on barking his opinions from the nearest rooftop.
“Be somebody” cracks open an ignorant fuelled hot topic in which Nick near-raps his way through a drama filled rant regarding the over privileged and the under worked. A medley of “Jones and Jimmy Jazz” and a Sam Cooke soul extravaganza, “Twisting the night away”, sees an amalgamation that breathes hopeful air into the lungs of the unsuspecting audience who sadly only came to see an attempted comeback by New York’s Five O’clock Heroes, poor show.
These various epilogues of teen angst are nothing new - Obviously. Countless acts have mumbled on in the past about the poor, deprived slums in which they reside, but with New Street it’s different – It’s fresh and it’s overwhelmingly inspirational. Y’see, Nick’s not from the wastelands of London, nor is he from the ghettos of Glasgow; He’s just a middle class boy from a middle class town with first class aspirations.
Like many he seems to find himself on the receiving end of a tirade of mindless yob abuse simply because he doesn’t sport a short back and sides. When people feel the need to criticise, in a witless manor, Nick sees the need to respond. And respond he does. An undeniable talent allows this new age mod to craft tales of booze filled nights, restaurant evictions and, of course, the hot potato topic of the female race.
“Walking Ad” is instrumentally simple. Short snappy guitars and an easily memorable melody make it musically sound, yet it’s the sing-a-long backbone of the song which makes it stand out. A story forms about an ex-colleague of Nick’s - obsessed with botox and addicted to fake tan it’s more like an extract from Jordan’s biography than a tale of a washed up hopeless case… But there’s truth behind this ballad! Honing in on this unnamed females school days Nick tells us how the previously cool teen-queen is now nothing but a future guest on the Jeremy Kyle show. As her ash tray fills up so does her bank balance from a recent benefit scam. And if “Did no body told you the cool kids go no where” isn’t a clear depiction of the playground hierarchy then i'm dumbfounded to what is.
“Class of our own” and “Small town heroes” continue along the road of escapism and social anarchy from the masses. They’re pop ballads with a dash of real soul, and not just the Motown sort. New Street’s front man has clearly poured his personal experiences and heartfelt discontent into the nine or so songs that fill up their forty minute set. As of now they’re unsigned, but who give two shits about that. The Water Rats just witnessed something of a mod revival, and it’s far from a style over substance case in which image prevails all, it’s more of a musical epiphany with a pair of checked trousers and a telecaster. Nearly no one in that room had heard of the Birmingham trio before they entered, yet all leave content that a beacon of hope is on the horizon – A spokes person for the youth generation? Maybe not, but a bloody witty young man whose whimsical tales quite nearly portray the struggle of today’s young’uns perfectly.
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