Label: Unsigned Release date: Out Now! Website: One of them is French, the other is Argentinean. One of them looks the spit of Will Self; the other is a lady so obviously she doesn’t. Both of them play guitars, they are supported by a drum machine the pumps out erratic beats. The drum machine doesn’t have a name; I’d like to think it is called Steve. A-lix’s brand of twitchy electro post-punk fits right in with the current appreciation of the eighties, to describe their sound, well, imagine a super-group consisting of members of Wire and Big Black (minus the deliberate obnoxious attitude) and the hijinks they might have got up to had they been confined to a dingy basement studio with only a loaf of Mighty White and a jar of Marmalade to satisfy hunger. ‘Introduction: Love’ gets things off to a banging start, though we might have a little technical problem, Steve is a bit stuck (somebody give him a nudge!) with the drum setting set at the same BPM for the beginning of the next track, oh wait that’s better, ‘Never Grow’ has a glorious chorus, with the man who looks like Will Self and the divine Argentinean lady combining their voices to devastating effect. Things change for the worse on ‘A Practical Course About Love’, pounding electric rhythms give way to dour acoustic strums, and pancake flat emotionless vocals. The change of pace kills it, you almost feel that the trio (I’m including Steve) should save this pansy puff material for when they record their second album after knocking back a tray of Bloody Mary’s whilst heavily influenced by the humdrum devil music of Crosby, Stills and Nash. Luckily the acoustic guitar is coated in kerosene and chucked in the fire. ‘Under The Sun’ is a little bit early U2, a conventional rocker, thankfully again it’s a minor blip before the darkness descends with ‘I Know A Man’, a tale of naughty nighttime violence. ‘Shortage’ is the drum beat to ‘Blue Monday’ drenched in post-punk hedonism, again the harmonies and Franz guitars are beautifully fitting, like a snug pair of beer stained skinny jeans. ‘Mexico’ steps into similar shoes and bounces with a flirtier skip; ‘Ignition’ spiky, a little raggedy, again the simple pleasures are abundant. Closer ‘So High’ is quite cold, a repetitive dystopian march, a rusty tap dripping desolation. To summarize Never Grow: It ain’t perfect, it ain’t original but it works. Rating: 7/10