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We were formed in October 2003 after being bitten simultaneously by whole buncha radioactive woodlice and endowed with awesome telepathetic powers, vowing to bring some variety to the vomit-encrusted, Yes/No/Yes scene of Manchester. We wanted to plant the sidewise-looking, cap-wearing spirit of the hedgerows and rural post offices to the black tar of the high street. That's what we wanted to do.
Finding a home proved difficult, but we mixed it up with Welsh half-hop, top notch electronica, gruff indie mannerisms, sublime vinyl-based concoctions, anything we could lay our synapses on...
After we pissed off half a dozen Mancunian venues, most of which have since gone out of business, we hosted a classic Peel Night Group Hug special in our flat, which was possibly the most exciting thing your correspondent has witnessed. Tears welled up, tears welled up. Then we had a little sleep.
For six months or so in 2007, we were revived and like horny giants waking from a long wet dream we spread our furry seed across the city once again. Once each month or so, the Czech Bar in Hulme hosted us and we sprayed the walls with peculiar noises and the same emulsive mix of guitars, drums, electronic glitches and left-hand turns. We even handed over grubby bundles of cash to our guest performers in a bid to reward their excellence.
But it was a hassle, friends, an ache across our noble temples. Bands would cancel or hedge their bets to exasperating degrees. We tired of lugging our gear and fretting over every opening of the venue doors. We packed Hug back into the box with the Arthurian threat of its return hanging misty around the spidery corners of our imaginations.
However, that time has come. Glastonbury is the benefactor, and the Hug returns. The Green Fields will witness our efforts aroundabout each dusk, and anyone interested in hitching their thumbs to our petards should make touch with us. The future twitches with gathering thoughts. Until then...
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