Unhinged Virtuosos: His Lordships Defining Moment in Rock n Roll

When you think of garage rock, you might picture a group of musicians with unruly quiffs, hiccups, and twangs, performing a wild Elvine St. Vitus dance like possessed Jerry Lee Lewises in cheap suits. But when one of these rock-soused equivalents to Appalachian snake handlers boasts a prodigious talent for their instrument, the magic happens.

His Lordship is a band that defies the traditional garage rock stereotype. Their guitarist/vocalist/frontman James Walbourne is insanely good, with chops that would secure a position as The Pretenders’ guitarist for the past 18 years. When he applies his talents to banging out the kind of unhinged, short, sharp, shockabilly blurts that His Lordship is devoted to, he presents quite the spectacle.

The band’s self-titled debut album is fired up and furiously fashioned, with a trademark Sun-Studios-through-a-Superfuzz fidelity that sounds as if it were captured on a microphone fashioned from a steel comb, a torn-up betting slip, and a peanut can. It’s exactly how His Lordship should sound, like The Jim Jones Revue in a bucket—and not a particularly clean one.

One of the standout tracks is Old Romantic, which features an unhinged nocturnal protagonist running from a policeman, pissing in a phone box, and stealing from the milkman. The lead single I Fly Planes Into Hurricanes sounds exactly as you’d expect, with 12-12-21 reins things in a jot while delivering a fine line in singalong ‘woah-woah’s. The contemplative-paced closer Gin And Fog allows Walbourne to demonstrate virtuosity and restraint worthy of a Tarantino spaghetti western score.

In summary, His Lordship defines rock’n’roll with their dark subterranean glamour and unapologetic, wilful approach to music. With James Walbourne’s insanely good chops and the band’s furiously fashioned sound, they present a spectacle that is both unhinged and virtuosic.