If the Coral spent a night of passion with the Ruts, and then proceeded to educate their offspring with the sound of Half Man Half Biscuit, the Furverts would be the unholy result. Their lyrics may make even less sense than those of the illiterate Charkoal, but at least they’ve got a passion which the former clearly lack.
While the Stone Temple (Learner) Pilots are content to groan about watching other people kiss and speak, the Furverts are out enjoying life to the full and singing about it. I would take this opportunity to review the superb “Personal Hygiene” song that lies at the end of the Dirty E.P., but as I probably wouldn’t be able to repeat any of the lines in print, I will have to satisfy myself with talking about the first track on the EP.
It’s just a simple song about meeting a man with no legs in China Town (does Moreton in Marsh have a China Town?). And that’s it. But there’s a drive, an enthusiasm and sense of fun that is lacking in Charkoal’s mindless, soulless drone. The Furverts do not yearn for a forever golden yesteryear like Shelby. They just live, sing and play for the now, while having an (infectious) laugh with the reggae rhythms and stupid lyrics.
And, most importantly of all: their drummer can actually drum!