Prune

Description

Born from the fusion of a prune and a nuclear power plant in the 47, these guys from the 47 are big grumps. Not the last to complain. About everything. All the time. Their record is black. Like a prune that has dried out too much. The accent is thick enough to cut with a knife. A cantankerous Cabrel. A thousand times more pissed off than the original. Hardcore. They are the pastoral answer to the cockney diatribes of the cool duo from Nottingham, Sleaford Mods. Except you understand everything. And the guys really worked on the lyrics. Because if you scratch a little under the light veneer of buffoonery, much deeper considerations about the difficult city/countryside relationship appear. Started as a joke, the project reaches unexpected sociological dimensions.