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Kendal fruitcakes



Home to a dazzling array of painters, writers and musicians, the Cumbrian town of Kendal has earned itself a reputation as a hotbed of eccentricity. Tim Jonze meets its newest export, Wild Beasts

Saturday March 3, 2007
The Guardian


When VisitBritain recently drew up their map of British rock'n'roll landmarks (england-rocks.co.uk), you can only imagine the outrage from Britain's indie community. Nowhere on the map was recognition of the house where Dave from the Zutons grew up or the site where the Research played their first ever gig. Instead were a load of places you'd never heard of like Knebworth House, The Cavern Club and Nottingham. Pffft!

The worst omission of all, though, had to be the small Cumbrian town of Kendal, which has spent years bubbling away as a town stocked full of some of Britain's most bonkers musical eccentrics. If British Sea Power weren't weird enough - a band who write songs about icebergs, dress in second world war regalia and play parties in honour of John Betjeman - then wait until you hear Wild Beasts, set to be one of this year's oddest discoveries. Kendal born and bred, they spent years holed up in a self-made studio, until they emerged blinking into the wider world as a bonkers hybrid of Talking Heads-tinged funk pop and 1920s jazz, a combo guaranteed to help you locate your inner flapper girl. Weirdest of all is lead singer Hayden's vocals, which wobble between falsetto and gravelly roar, often in the space of one note.



"We had this thing about being accidentally outrageous," Hayden explains. "But we don't feign eccentricity - it all comes out naturally."

Thanks to Kendal's "cultural isolation" (the band started writing songs long before they discovered broadband), Hayden and his bandmates Ben, Tom and Chris wouldn't have known what a bandwagon looked like, had they ever wished to jump on one. So instead of opting to "go new rave", they indulged themselves in Michael Jackson, Abba and Leonard Cohen. After relocating to Leeds, they were immediately spotted by ace indie label Bad Sneakers who released first single, Brave Bulging Bouyant Clairvoyants. After a London gig which won over half the country's A&R; pack (while the other half ran screaming for the exits - they're that kind of band), the band joined Franz Ferdinand and Arctic Monkeys on Domino's roster. There's more to Kendal than weirdo-rock, though. Home to the famous mint cake, it's also connected with a staggering array of scientists, writers and painters. David Starkey - everyone's go to guy when it comes to the Tudor period - was born there, whereas it was while living in Kendal that John Cunliffe wrote Postman Pat.

"Our website was designed in the same house that Postman Pat was written," laughs Hayden. "But the post office that inspired it was shut down in the recent cullings. That was a tragedy."

British Sea Power's singer Yan also mourns the loss, but thinks that Kendal's true eccentrics go unmentioned. "Take Mr Tea bags," he says, "a fruity yet rather perverted ball jiggler, known to frequent the town centre cafes whilst fondling his "teabags" and whistling inspired ditties. Or Old Jack the busker. Couldn't hold a note on his rusty harmonica but made up for it with his own unique Tennent's-inspired passion. Or even Beetroot, self-described as the least successful musician ever."

So why does Kendal breed these artsy types? "Perhaps it's related to the radioactive cloud which drifted over from Chernobyl and was soaked up by the heather on the hills," suggests Yan. "I remember playing in the stuff , and the official warnings to stay away from it that followed." Goldsmiths? St Martins? These days, budding art rockers with a penchant for the peculiar should consider heading north towards Cumbria instead the people of Kendal are redrawing the rock map.

· Wild Beasts play UK dates from Mar 8, check myspace.com/wildbeasts





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