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Emotional Rescue dives back into one of its specialties, the formative years of Post Punk and Dub influenced music, presenting the, to date, unheralded Skinbat Scramble. The rarity of the unknown, the discovery of rich, lost music, it is a delight to release a compilation of the band's previously unreleased recordings. A snapshot of time, a journey that covers several decades of friendship but is concentrated here on the fertile 80's scene.

Forged around the friendship of Mark Eason and Fergus Crockford, but with ever changing line-ups, flowing in and out during misspent youths, self-taught playing, falling in and out of bands, travelling that well-worn journey from Home Counties boredom to the excitement of a rough edged London, taking in as music as possible, from Motown on to the The Velvet Underground, The Rolling Stones, Bowie, Pink Floyd, Gong and Fripp & Eno, before Dr Feelgood, Eddie & The Hotrods and a dose of John Peel led to discovering Dub and Punk and witnessing that short-lived burst of creativity at the Roxy Club, Marquee or Vortex and exploring back to early Rock'n'Roll, Rockabilly and old Surf'n'Soul, alongside the likes of Wire and Suicide.

As the Post-Punk sounds mixed simultaneously with Two-Tone, local Art College gave way to university and the early struggles of finding a way in the late 70s / early 80s of Thatcher's Britain. Music was central, Skinbat Scramble finally appearing, morphing from numerous teen bands, early studio excursions of tape loops and effects leading to the first recording sessions in 1981.

The slower tempos, introspection, open structures, and shimmering experimentation of Post Punk were pivotal. John Foxx's early Ultravox, Siouxsies' "Lord's Prayer" period and The Electric Chairs seminal "So Many Ways", influenced to a freer future. PIL, ACR, Section 25 and Pink Military let imaginations briefly roam.

'Far out and weird', those first recordings made at Leeds Uni's Fine Arts Dept utilized Revoxes, Tandberg, MiniMoog and even a borrowed drummer. This was followed up with completed sessions at Elephant Studios in London, forming the basis of this compilation.

The tight scattergun rhythms on opener Submit, in both Vocal and short Dub mix, bely an unreleased band. Taught and crisp, it's like a song you've heard propelling open-minded, leftfield dancefloors for years.

The writing, musicianship and studio mastery displayed on North By Northwest and Skiddadle should not be music unreleased for almost 40 years. In North Dub and closer, Pixie Boot Dub their understanding of the opportunities of dub Reggae are clearly apparent, ethereal music wormholes for late night smokers.

However, it is in Basement Voltaire that the band step out time. Recorded in 1986 this is a 9-minute proto-techno wonder that mixes all their psychedelic meets punk youth in a crescendo of crashing claps and rolling toms that is of a time and so far ahead of its time.

And that was that, after 6 gigs, including a couple at the infamous St Martins, to an audience total you can fit on one hand, the band's first incantation closed and the master tapes were stored for several decades, waiting for "The Psychedelic Pirates" to finally surface.

Ex RSD LP on transparent red vinyl, gatefold sleeve with lyric inner sleeve and DL card. Final copies now reduced to £7.99. The tracks on this album have never been officially released before now. The eight songs on this album were recorded in 1978 on a 2-track stereo Revox A77 tape recorder. The recordings are unashamedly analogue, using one microphone and guitars plugged directly into the tape recorder. Bouncing down tracks irreversibly as they went on, forced to make creative decisions that could not be undone. Some hard choices had to be made with the mix, but with no record company meant no record company agenda. TV Smith & Richard Strange could write and record whatever they wanted – and did! It has been an enormous pleasure to rediscover these recordings, the result of a friendship of two artists emerging from broken bands and each about to embark on a lifelong adventure in words and music. TV SMITH - I wasn’t having a lot of fun in 1978 when Richard asked me to collaborate on a song he was writing called “Summer Fun.” I was in the final stages of songwriting for the second Adverts album “Cast Of Thousands,” a project that already seemed doomed to failure given an unenthusiastic record company, a band in the throes of falling apart, and a dwindling audience - but my creative juices were in full flow and I was ready for something different. I already knew Richard, of course, from the Doctors Of Madness, who I’d followed in the years before punk when I was still living in Devon and they were one of the few bands to come and play in the area. I considered them a warped poetic glam band with gothic leanings, and was slightly surprised when the song I’d been invited to work on turned out to be a kind of California surf pastiche. But I was game to get involved, and after we’d finished it and ventured forward with regular writing and recording sessions over the following weeks it soon became clear that “Summer Fun” was just a gateway drug, and the songs that were emerging from our combined forces were going to quickly become much deeper and much darker // RICHARD STRANGE - Watching the remnants of a musical dream being swept away by the juggernaut of corporate punk rock in 1976, I felt a combination of jealousy and resentment towards many of the key players who had been responsible for our demise. The Sex Pistols had supported my band Doctors of Madness early in their career and nicked not only our future but £12.00 from a pair of trousers in our dressing room in Middlesbrough Town Hall! The Jam, who supported us over four shows at London’s fabled Marquee Club, were how I imagined The Who would be if they’d joined the Young Conservatives. Warsaw, our go-to support band in Manchester, had just changed their name to Joy Division, and Johnny and the Self-Abusers, our Scottish flag wavers, had become Simple Minds. All were being feted by the all-powerful music press, while we were being buried. But there was one punk band for whom I never had anything but the greatest affection…The Adverts.