Some bands hear things as they are and sing why, Layton writes things that never were and sings why not.

London, Liverpool, Cardiff & Cornwall, Winchester, Warrington, Welwyn. Layton is setting up everywhere and now is the time to join them. No longer shall the LP be the glass slipper of our generation. I say enough of the single serving pop music….

Mix two- parts gin with one part tonic, add seventeen chords, a haunting voice, and a troublesome mind- this makes Lucy Layton. One can make all sorts of things if one were so inclined, and lucy has forever been inclined. (to write it or sing it..)

I know this because Lucy knows this and soon you will know it too. Lucy Layton isn’t your nine-to-five job, she isn’t the train you missed, the deadline that passed or the text message you’ll regret in the morning. Lucy is the voice of Layton: the singer. She is the music you will love.

Hand crafted by the hard working indigenous people of Mehring, Germany, John Barwood’s custom made guitar holds no imperfections. He has a reason to cut his nails. You are his corporate sponsors. Writing songs in a hot bath tub drinking the Rioja of Christ, John imagines playing guitar with Hendrix: if you wake up at a different time in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?

Bands have this policy about vibrating guitars. Olly Wise is Jack’s smirking revenge and his bass lines make the authorities nervous. He is the middle child of history, screaming fuck redemption and fuck damnation. Olly’s second rule is the same as his first: he doesn’t talk about it, but his music makes it perfectly clear that tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of your life. He has everything in that bass guitar case.

Forget Wolfgang Amadeus, Wolfgang is polishing brass on the Titanic and it’s all going down baby. Angel Mozart Arabadzhiev has evolved and the keys have fallen where they may. Whilst the rest of us are sleeping, he works, splicing notes into songs that others would miss. Bulgaria may not be famous for producing versatile solutions for modern living, but in Angel it has produced a pianist who plays how you wanna play and his beats are free in all the ways that others aren’t.

Sebastian Hankins doesn’t have some guys name on his underwear. He has a drum kit. This has his name on it. The drums he owns have ended up owning him and they want him to hit them as hard as he can. Sebastian is Generation X – no great war, no great depression. Raised to believe that one day we’d all be rock stars; he would now like to say a few words to mark the occasion.

You have front row seats for this theatre of mass demonstration, the audio committee of project LAYTON have wrapped the foundation of a dozen songs with chords, beats and melodies. In two minutes, primary speakers with blow bass cannons and a few square blocks of your mind will be reduced to smoldering ruble. I know, this because LAYTON knows this.