Best New Music: Sexwee? – Clandestine Dalai Lama Hallucinations

Sexwee? are my new favourite band. Ever since I partied with (lead singer) Osama Sexwee and (beatboxer) Lil’ Adolf Sexwee backstage after their triumphant gig at Camden’s Backbencher Club, I have been filled with such a primal love-throbbing it feels like my cock is going to mutate a la The Thing and bring the fuckpain to all students at Dalston Kingsland Railway Station at the smallest provocation. Does this constitute a lack of journalistic impartiality?  Of course it does, but wouldn’t you obsess over a band you just saw shit in a groupie’s handbag? I rest my case.

I refuse to sully the memory of said night by trying to feebly describe Clandestine Dalai Lama Hallucinations cavalcade of awesomeness with the English language. And I don’t know French; so you will just have to except that Sexwee? are my new favourite band. If you want an analogy: imagine being high on mescaline and getting rimmed by a pandog while Adrian Chiles’ decapitated head sings punk-style Kate Bush cover versions through that T-Pain iPhone app people thought was funny once.

Reviewed by Dr. Rhubarb Pistachio