Once again, our intrepid and talented southern-UK reporter Sarah Stead has filed a report that delves into the grimy madness at the heart of a young rock band.

She spoke to The Circus Sands, a young, exhilarating rock group from the south-east about sweat, ceilings bowing from the weight of the moshpit and  the vital importance of whether T-Rex was an influence (or not)…

The first time I interviewed The Circus Sands, front man Simon Corcoran was hungover, wearing a strip of material as a tie and there was an earring holding his shirt together.

This time, seven months …

This is an interview designed specifically not to eke away at the carefully constructed WALL OF MYSTERY that surrounds the Golau Glau collective.They originally contacted ANBAD with an email consisting of carefully constructed confusion, and we’ve been hooked ever since. Here, they (whoever ‘they’ are) charmingly bat away our quasi-probing questions…

Hi Golau Glau! How are you? Where are you in the world right now? What do you see? And what is good about that place?

We are in GG Towers in the UK, an international HQ for mystique and oompah.

Naturally, we’re all wondering why there’s such secrecy. …

Bands come, bands go. And as such, bands that take themselves too seriously in this brief period end up wasting the best opportunity they will ever be presented to have a lot of fun. Hell, even the Clash had a sense of humour: just listen to Cut The Crap.

That said, anyone who plays it purely for laughs only end up being laughed at. Ace Bushy Striptease are a rare breed of new band: they’re having fun, but are deadly serious about it.

Ace Bushy Striptease // Michael Kightly Is Pretty Rad

With one eye laser-focussed on making great …

Egyptian Hip Hop are an easy band to love. Or to hate, depending on your point of view. The most interesting people are divisive in this way. This interview is the story of a band who are loathed and loved for exactly the same reasons. By the end you’ll know where you stand. And they won’t care what you think.

At Manchester’s In The City Music Conference last year, a powder-puff of sneers billowed with every mention of Egyptian Hip Hop. The vitriol was curiously vocal, and this was confusing; local bands are usually praised unrealistically. It was this …

Some bands revel in providing dull answers to the oft-dull process of a Q&A. Others revel in the opportunity to play with the boundaries and, metaphorically, drive sensibility out to a remote woodland and finish it off with a shotgun.

The delightful and talented Stained Glass Heroes are such a band, and the following interview has been left in its raw state to preserve the full ludicrous luminescence.

As such, I hope the facile nature of the questions is cancelled out by the ingenious fun of the answers.

Hi SGH! How are you? Where are you in the world right …

Sarah Stead, a Reading-based writer with style, panache and who is, frankly, an all-round good egg, interviews the guitar-scuzzing, keyboard-stabbing Midi Midis for ANBAD…

I FIND Marcus Fairley in the corner of the pub, with a pint of lager and The Times and not wearing any of his own clothes.

“This is my ex-girlfriend’s mum’s top,” he says, pulling at the white v-neck. “I really like it, though.”

Marcus, the Reading-based half of mould-breaking electronic outfit MidiMidis, is probably 20% hairspray. One brown eye stares right at me before he picks at the rest of his clothes and talks …

Is Manchester a city that is so proud of its musical past it still trades heavily on it, or one that has just given up trying to surpass what was produced before? That revolutionary 80′s period is still leant upon, and how: The Hacienda, now a swanky apartment block; “And on the 6^th day, God created Manchester” T-shirts are still available in your size; and Peter Hook, having spent decades learning how not to run a nightclub, proves he has a sense of humour by opening a new, Factory-themed one.

This isn’t as bad a situation as …

Forest Fire were the band who blazed (Boom! Boom!) a trail onto ANBAD back in September and wowed us all with their grimy, shambling, rock. We frothed at the mouth a bit, and spouted such platitudes as:

“Their music has that vital ingredient: unconfined individuality. Yum. A really very good new band.”

All of which would have been just lovely if I hadn’t then tried to crowbar some dreadful cooking analogy into the article. (But for those of you who simply love boiled octopus, you’re in for a treat.)

Still, I wanted to fan the flames of Forest Fire…

Some artists have something about them that elevates them above the frothing herd of other, equally enthusiastic artists; something indefinable and latent, but immediately arresting. Something so delicate that it could crumble you try to put your finger on it. A trait that is entirely theirs.

Nic Dawson Kelly doesn’t have this; not like that anyway. He does have that something, and, yes, it’s all his. It’s just that his something is so blindingly obvious, it’s like being poked repeatedly in the eye. It’s his voice. When I reviewed him a week or so …