For devoted record obsessives, few joys are as exhilarating or rewarding as THE DISCOVERY—the moment you uncover a GREAT overlooked band that’s been inexplicably ignored or forgotten.
I live for those moments. But as most record crate diggers worth their weight in limited edition seven-inch pressings know, the truly revelatory discoveries don’t happen every day. They happen infrequently, and when you least expect it—almost by some cosmic design to ensure the band in question hits you with the maximum possible impact.
That’s exactly what happened when I first heard Happy Refugees. A few years before Acute Records valiantly rescued and reissued their classic 1984 mini-LP “Last Chance Saloon,” I experienced that only too uncommon feeling of exhilarated discovery thanks to the Mutant Sounds blog, where some kind soul had shared the record with unsuspecting music fans.
I was immediately struck by the band’s restless creativity and sense of adventure, the wonderfully odd way they married the shambolic with the elegant, the unexpected left turns, the often cinematic scope of their reach, and just the sheer quality of everything I was hearing. To my ears, Happy Refugees were every bit as thrilling and imaginative as cult post-punk heroes like Television Personalities, The Monochrome Set, and The Fall.
How could this band go unnoticed for so long?