from the LP A Taste of Pink, Own Up Records, 1982
Save for the expensive-sounding drum set, this track and a large portion of the Prisoners’ output could, rather convincingly, just as soon be culled from any number of ‘60s garage rock compilations; at the time of its release, their sound was the strict antithesis to the hordes of synthesizer-laden new wave groups gigging around them, and they would have sounded more at home across the pond in California within the paisley underground scene. These young lads came together in Chatham, Kent, and their vibe is largely defined by Jamie Taylor’s ever-present Hammond organ, almost sounding like a Farfisa in some songs; ahead of their time, the Prisoners’ retro vibe influenced many c86 and brit-pop bands later in the decade. Big props for the lewd album title, it always makes me chuckle.
from the LP A Taste of Pink, Own Up Records, 1982
