#26 Citizen Suit

Did you know, 40% of the world's surface is covered in bands You Have Not Heard of? The other 60% is mainly taken up with U2's sense of self satisfaction. Citizen Suit are most definitely in the lower, but undoubtedly more eco-friendly of the two percentiles.

Citizen Suit are one of those new 'Eco-bands' you have been hearing so much about from this blog entry. They are the next big thing to come out of Swampy, the Polecats Riots of the 1980s and having too much time on your hands not to buy a car, watch Top Gear, and think the Jeremy Clarkson should really be the next Prime Minister. After all he talks such sense.

Randall P Dusk, Trevor Hope Lennon and Cosmic Daphne are our fearsome trio, who are in fact just one member short of a quartet. Interesting. The name, 'Citizen Suit', is somewhat of a sly misnomer on the part of the group. They pride themselves on never having warn a suit (except for that time when Trevor got sick all down his only Thundercats t-shirt and had no choice but to don jacket and tie). They also refuse to exist as "citizens of a country which persecutes the barn owl and threatens the very existence of natterjack toads of the West Drayton area by the expansion of that new Lidl".

Despite their clearly defined moral stance the band weren't always this green. Sure they used to turn their washing machines down to 30° and ensure their humvees were taken off standby but, frankly, who doesn't? Some argue that they are now cashing in the good intentions of a population. A population who have been duped into thinking the end is nigh if they don't swap their existing frying pan for a plug and play, energy saving model. Their fans on the other hand would argue that the band, and Dusk in particular, have a higher calling to educate and nurture the world's population to a better future, in harmony with ourselves and our little vole buddies.

The rarely bathed trio started out in a flat in London with a pair of bongoes and, that staple of all fledgling musicians, the Early Learning Centre kazoo. They would busk day and night in Covent Garden, earning literally pounds for just an hours work. The group quickly became fans of the obscure ethnic instrument, and the more ethnically obscure the better. Each member of the group is well rehearsed in the use of, amongst others, the Didgeriflute from the Former Yugoslav Republic of Pakistan, the Bass-a-ma-panpipes from Argentania, and a copy of New Internationalist magazine played with a violin bow, from all good newsagents.

To this day they live like trendy urban nomads, setting up camp in a new London village each night. At first it was a daily struggle against the fat cats, who would sneak into their camp late at night and eat all the cornflakes. Who would have thought something so orange could be so girth augmenting? By the summer of 2007 that they had created a name for themselves in the deprived West Kensington slum area of London, and formed collaborations with other groups who were also exploiting the area. Of particular note are their efforts with both local panpipe heroes '¡DeepPan!' from Guatemalia and 'Pan on Pan Action' from Peruvia. "I'm like Francis of Assisi, Doolittle wants to be me, the sea creatures they all love me, 'Cos we all need a Porpoise" they would chant in unison.

Several unquestioningly positive things have come out of the band's existence. Their 'Hug a Badger Programme' for young offenders and their 'Recycle to Work Scheme' to name but a few. And, of course not forgetting their 'Deport Alan Titchmarsh Petition' - not so much to save the planet, but a good idea nonetheless (if only for his novels).

Their first and only disc is a concept album on which they decided to parody the Amazon rainforest and it's contents. The quirky and quip laden thirty minute ethno-fest pokes fun at everything from loggers (effeminate lady-boys) to Japanese whalers (dubbed the al qaeda of the seas on track three - 'I can't believe they Nine-Elevened a Narwhal'). "Treefrog, greenfrog, your feet stick to the big log" they gibed. Inspirational if true. The album 'Tropical Satire' was released on 2 March 2009 and is available direct from the band only - infront of them as they busk (just put a donation in their Sitar-a-phone case). I give the album three thumbs up out of fourteen, and that's despite the fact that every purchase comes with a free bag for life.

Citizen Suit are currently taking a gap year rearing young pygmy goats on a farm just outside Staines, West London. In their place other bands have sprung up hoping to benefit from the early groundwork laid by Citizen Suit - Tribe of the Savanna from Hounslow and Children of the Mangrove from Musgrove, to name but two.

So, for those of us left wondering where this whole eco-band phenomenon is taking us I implore you to watch this. Ok, so that didn't have alot to do with new music but hey, at least we can all sleep soundly knowing that the size of a whale is the exact distance between a toddler's raised hands. And that that kind of knowledge is well celebrated in Philadelphia. And after all - isn't that all that really matters in the end? Isn't it?


What harm will one more sheet of paper do? Go on, print this blog entry.