Welly

It is Thursday, we are at the Waterfront Studio in Norwich and Welly, the band, are on the eighth stop of their National Service Tour (Pt. 1 The South). Big Ben style doorchimes are followed by an announcement – 'Hello, and welcome. Are you standing comfortably? Do you have a strong drink? And have you been to the toilet? Good. Then we are ready to begin'. Some in the room might have been old enough to remember the children's radio show 'Listen With Mother', but on others the irony might have been lost. However, for this bunch of twenty-somethings from Brighton, led by vocalist Welly (real name Elliott Hall) and who walk on stage to the strains of '(Is This The Way to) Amarillo', nostalgia is clearly the new knowledge, their virtual currency mined via books and CDs that they root out of local charity shops, and that is offered up as a rediscovered love of fun, and an homage to the glory days of Britpop.

Welly and schoolfriends Joe (guitar) and Jacob (bass) hail from near Southampton, but joined forces with Matt (guitar) and Hannah (synthesiser and percussion) after journeying along the A27 to study at university in Brighton. The result is one of those bands built on a sense of fun and a joy of pop music, and from the opening bars of 'Je Voudrais Good Time', their joyous celebration of holidays in Europe, I cannot help but be reminded of Norwich's own Gladboy and Bag of Cans, and I quickly surrender to Welly's charm.

We are made to pull the imaginary starter cord of a lawn mower ahead of 'Deere John', a song that is actually about marital strife, and a man whose lawn seems to have become more important to him than his own family.

'Soak Up The Culture' is a raucous anthem that satirises the antics of gap-year adventurers, whilst 'Shopping' attempts to destroy our unsustainable addiction to retail therapy. The gospel according to Welly is witty and fun, unashamed inspired by songs ripped from CD singles that their parents would have bought from the likes of the long defunct Virgin Megastores, Our Price Records and Woolworths, and that would have been ripped onto their i-Pods as teenagers. Welly's music echoes to the pop and indie sounds of Blur, Arctic Monkeys, and even Girls Aloud. The songs are presented at breakneck speed, and with high-energy running on the spot from the band's guitarists. There is no drumkit, but keyboard player Hannah sporadically produces a cowbell in order to add a bit of high-end to the relentless sound of the drum machine.