At a time where music is so accessible, we can sometimes be forgiven for taking a lot of what we hear for granted, spoilt by the riches of an ever-growing list of new artists to enjoy; enter Rum Buffalo.
The 8-piece London-centric have hit us with another fast and vibrant taste of theatrical pop-rock, steam-rolled into an operatic journey of bellowing horns, fragmented time signatures and dynamically distorted vocals. Described as “an unpredictable journey through the eyes and mind of a lunatic prophet of doom”, the unrelenting theme of disaster lies heavily within the complex network of production enhancements, combined with the lyrical doctrine played by lead singer Jake Steven’s Preacher persona.
On your first listen, you are thrown about emphatically and without notice, into the theatrics of a west end musical, powerless to the uncontrollable grin painted across your face. Sounding like the lovechild of Reel Big Fish and Rage Against The Machine, you’re instantly met with the tenacity of a 5-piece rock band, accompanied by the sharp and metallic staccato from the 3 additional horn players, filling out the infectious breakdowns with a vigorous swagger.
Just when you thought it couldn’t be taken to the next level, the track revives itself with a showering of carefully constructed lyrics by rap artist Kathika, jumping into the mix with a driving force enough to push this musical behemoth up into the sky. The final piece to this exhilaratingly intricate puzzle is the addition of a 13-piece choir comprised of the bands favourite female vocalists from the London music scene, rounding off what is an extremely impressive single.
Rum Buffalo have managed to straddle the line of top brass playing and dramatic rock n roll, leaving no stone unturned in the process: its safe to say that ostentation never sounded so good.