I first saw The Molotovs one sweltering evening last summer, playing a headline gig upstairs in a North London pub. It was a fairly large space and they'd filled it: people were squeezed in like sardines between the bar and the stage, continually shuffling for extra foot space as more and more fans filed in through the door.
The gig was to launch their mini-album, And The Heads Did Roll, on the independent label Fierce Panda. And since buying it, I've found that listing to them through my headphones has the same effect as watching them live. I can't sit still. The Molotovs have managed to pour all of their energy and compassion into one six-track CD.
The opening track, Come To Grief, has particularly sobering lyrics, and yet I get excited every time I listen to it. The saxophone, drums and keyboard gradually grow into a tight ball of frenzy before suddenly dispersing. It's the kind of song that makes you walk quicker when you're on your way out. And smile.
