The Bite – Right Down Your Alley LP

The Bite – Right Down Your Alley LP

The slogans engraved on the desks, scrawled on the doors of the bathrooms, on the rubber railings of the escalators, on the Formica tables of the warehouses; the phrases covered in the folders, written on the plates, stamped on the shirts and on the skin. Bellowed at concerts, at demonstrations, in line at Inem, in line at the bakery and chanted in waiting rooms and even at AMPA meetings. Chanted in the doorways with Xibeca before, always shouted on stage, remembered during eight-hour vermouths, DJed at barbecues with record players and whispered to the children who have just been born, here and now. The things that matter, truths for which time does not pass. Yesterday and tomorrow, yesterday tomorrow: the songs of The Bite.

YES: to say yes, to say yeah, to the choruses in the key of la and to the chants in the key of lo, to always go to the center of things, to look for action, to the strange children who shine, to the losers who they win, over Friday afternoon beer, when the secret world is out in the open and there is a brawl and tinkling of fifths, the tricked-out Rickenbackers, Secret Affair and Sugar Minott, Orwell listening to the precarious trumpets of his companions, playing for the pleasure of playing, playing faster, playing purer; yes to taking care of yourself, to taking care of your loved ones, to belonging, to an idea that does not wear out, to an idea that is like an insect in an amber ball: it shines and will last for millennia; yes also to say no.

NO: to always say yes, to think that everything is relative, to the rich without cavities of privileged genetics, to the cenutrios vigoréxicos with walnut brains, to their fascist swagger, to the commentators who work on coins like hospital TVs public, to the doublethink of Orwell and the surveillance cameras in Orwell Square, not to the ukuleles with flowers and the charlatans and weather vanes and climbers; no they will not pass, not to stop playing, never.

The Bite are back with Right Down Your Alley and they say all that and more. The Bite are home, the orchestra of our best moments, the karaoke of the rowdy, the riffs that turn us into crazed Pavlov poodles: that make us wag our tails, order beer, snap, go out, march, hug things simple and beautiful. Like their songs. Songs that are a bite: hard, tiny, but that leave flavor and echo.

The Bite are back, long live The Bite!