I have been a big, big fan of The Shakamoto Investigation since I saw their electrifying set supporting Drahla at London’s Studio 9294 in May 2019. The ‘fire and nervous energy’ of their set was infectious; frenetic and shouty with a wry sense of humour running through their songs (they are named after a Reeves & Mortimer sketch, after all). After the show I had a chat and got a copy of their CD which was essentially a home-burned disc, handwritten and housed in a Cooplands Bakery bag, containing the pastry flake remnants of whatever baked treat it had previous held. This is hands down one of the best things I have ever bought at a gig. Sam from the band did tell me “I gave one to Mary Anne Hobbs in Jumbo Records in Leeds, the CD was pretty unplayable with the amount of crumbs printed onto it. She looked disgusted. Haha.”
But sadly, all good things must come to an end and despite my elation receiving the email announcing their new album, the bubble was quickly burst when I saw it was their last and contained the bittersweet message, “Thanks to everyone who came and saw us and bought records and sorted us pints along the way. Probably safe to consider this a farewell from us.” But there’s a time to grieve and a time to groove and this album is a flat-out wonky masterpiece.
The Shakamoto Investigation maybe their swansong but these are a collection of songs that are not going gently into that good night. The opening track ‘Lesser Known Method’ starts at ramming speed and goes on like an out of control fairground ride. I can only assume it was recorded live in the studio as it speeds up and slows down with a real sense that the wheels are going to fall off, but never do. Then it’s straight into the angular menace of ‘America’ and the sandpaper mosh pit of ‘Acorn Lips’, a drunken sorbet from ‘Yeah Yeah’ and then the brilliantly titled ‘Ken Barlow Death Cult’, which is powered by razorblade bass, bitter-harmonics and the kind of screamed vocals that leave you hoarse just listening to them.
The trio of Jake, Sam and Ellis, are friends from university and formed the band in 2017. When I contacted them about the album Sam gave me this insight, “It all just came to an end very naturally, people went in different directions. Jake went on to do Reflecting Skin & Tormented Imp, I went to work with Leeds d-beat band Motive & work on Porcine (formerly Regional Creeps) and Ellis did some solo music with Phil from JT Soar. The Shakamoto Investigation was formed right in the forefront of our Uni days tangled in the mess of life without money and other antics, as time moved on I suppose we did. We had recorded the album at our second home JT Soar in Nottingham around 2021/2 and we’d been sat on it ever since not knowing what to do with it so we just thought we’d release it as a farewell.”
The Shakamoto Venn Diagram used to hold The Arctic Monkeys on one side and The Fall on the other, but now includes a circle for The Bonzo Dog Doodah Band thanks to the bibulous tracks ‘Cigarillos’, ‘Yeah Yeah’, and ‘Pigeon Falls’ which provide a peek into the kind of drunken studio shenanigans most bands leave on the cutting room floor, but I’m so pleased they left in. ‘Cigarillos’ is the kind of catchy tune that you find your brain playing to you when you least expect it (“I love cigarillos, cigarillos they love me. Buy them from the market £4.50p. Flatbread and salami, cans, cans, cans, cans. And this is how I’ll spend my days as long as I’ve got two hands.”
To steal from another angular band, Josef K, the fun ‘n’ frenzy the Shakamotos bring to the party is energising and ‘Oobily Doobily’, which closes the album, is a fitting finale: six minutes of stop-start heaven as they shout and riff their way through 7/8 and 4/4 time.
Sad as I am about this being their final release they leave behind two great albums in this and the wonderfully titled Existential Bread (which came with a bottle of their own brand of hot sauce) containing classic tracks like ‘Rats’, ‘Half Time Draw’, and Take it or Leave it’. It’s been a glorious, disorderly, hunk-of-drunk-funk-racing-downhill-without-any-brakes ride and I’ve loved every minute. So, thank you Sam, Ellis, and Jake, the pastry crumbs in the bottom of my homemade CD cover are now more precious to me than ever.
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Review by Paul F Cook
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