Food on the Floor. Nasty.

Yes, yes, yes, they are back. With the depressing regularity of a cheap watch 9 o'clock Nasty pop up like Meerkats, hurl another song to me and wait expectantly for a response.

I once promised them to preview all their new songs. They wanted my words for their press release. Never did I for one moment think they would survive for more than two wet farts. But they turn out to be resilient and fecund. The new single is called Food on the Floor. It is only the single by accident. But I can explain that after I tell you about the song.

It starts simply enough. A bright guitar lead, upbeat drums. The shadow of a grinding bass to remind us that we are not in the mainstream. The vocals begin playful. But then the song uncoils and just as you take a breath it delivers the purest pop punch. It evokes drinking, laughter and violence tinged with the inconsolable regret for a lost friend. If you ever get blind drunk at a funeral, this song will be the soundtrack.

All this is true. I like it. They veer from pop to rock and to pop again and this is a good, driving pop anthem. People I probably would not like will sing it loudly in places I would never go.

But, I yearn. I yearn reader for the less professional and efficient version of 9 o'clock Nasty that produced what was without doubt the most slack and idiotic Christmas single ever made, I wanted that because I wanted the rough edges, not this sleek and purposeful bolt. I know I used to complain they needed to tighten up and focus. Well I was wrong.

A story.

This song was not intended for single release, or perhaps to be the song they would release in the summer as they took to the road to promote their lunacy in front of innocent people. The working title for the tour is Collateral Damage. The April single was going to be Darker Star, and I have heard it. Darker Star was just not quite ready. They argue over the tone of a bass drum in the final chorus. For hours. Darker Star is everything I want 9 o'clock Nasty to make. It is all of their efforts to write garage-rock-punk-Americana with a dose of Scott Walker and a Nick Cave enema.

I hate these people but I am genuinely looking forward to reviewing the final version.