If any year in recent memory was likely to inspire a political record, it’s 2016, a horror show of rising nationalism, civil wars and an ever-worsening refugee crisis. Nadine Shah has deftly channelled her fury and disbelief at it all into a record that’s both fiercely intelligent and, with its tense Krautrock rhythms, deliciously dark, gothic melodies and gorgeous, strident vocals, moreishlylistenable.
Her anger is laser-focused, the title track railing against the lack of compassion for desperate refugees arriving on the shores of Kos, while the simultaneously twitchy and soaring Mother Fighter deftly humanises the Syrian crisis.
The political is personal, too, lead single Out The Way slapping down anyone who suggests that Shah, as a second-generation immigrant, should go back to where she came from – which is South Shields in Tyneside, but then racists aren’t the brightest bunch, are they?
It’s not hectoring, it’s just holding a mirror up to the world, sending out a brilliant rallying cry and making Shah a national treasure in waiting.
