Sweet Williams
Up from the sea-lap pebbles of the Sussex coast, beneath the battled sky, there, cupped like metal-fire in the clutching cauldron of the Brighton downs dwells the throb, purr, snarl and roar of Sweet Williams. A band whose grooves warm like loving wine, whose riffs swagger and lurch with all the seeming bonhomie of a sailor new on shore-leave, and yet like a stray dog which you imagined you could tame, those same riffs are liable in the end to wind up biting you on the arse.