“Estrons are taking none of my shit”
Estrons are taking none of my shit. “It’s kind of a non-question” lead singer Tali says when I approach the subject of the refugee crisis, “it’s just fucked, isn’t it?”
When I ask her what makes bands ‘punk’ in 2017, she says “I’m so fed up of that word being thrown around. I just think it’s so easy to say ‘there’s a girl and she’s singing and not playing guitar, therefore it’s punk.’ But it’s actually just really heavy pop music.”
There’s an ethos to their music though that has it often labelled as ‘punk’. It isn’t there in the riffs or the rhythm, it’s in the bubbling anger of the delivery. An Estrons song is a poisonous internal diatribe exploding like a shaken can of beer.
Tali describes cigarettes and alcohol as the things she’d choose to describe in a show-and-tell with an alien. “This is what I do to damage my liver [and] this is what I do to damage my lungs. We’re so miserable on the face of this planet that we just slowly commit suicide over the space of thirty years…if they lived here I guarantee they’d smoke as well.”
It’s this barefaced frankness that makes songs like 2015’s Flying Vinyl B side Make a Man and anti-fuck boy anthem I’m Not Your Girl as powerful as they are. Tali’s vitality is channelled through the whole band, fizzing from guitar to bass to drums and back again: mutinous, melodic and cathartic.
Out on the road, Estrons “want people to be…blown away by the songs.” This particular crowd certainly is, as crowd-surfing, turbulent mosh pits and general ecstasy peak during both new and old songs.
The band have a raw energy to their performance and a confidence in what they’ve created.
As with any musician, there’s a softer side that doesn’t see the light of stage. As we discuss the “hours and hours of motorway travel” that make up a band’s existence, talk turns to Tali’s son who, I’m told, “learned to walk in a service station.”
The M42 services, to be exact: “he kept trying to walk into the Over-18 gaming section: he wanted to gamble so much he actually walked himself there.”
Little Björn also went out on tour with Slaves, who he loved and who loved him: “they wear lots of jewellery in their ears so he was always going for their faces and tattoos,” she says, recalling the tour that took the band to some of the UK’s smaller, forgotten venues.
“The reason you do it in these towns is because big music doesn’t go there anymore,” Tali says of September’s Back in the Van Tour that took the two bands to Penzance and St Alban’s via Bridgend and Hebden Bridge, “we want to do another one.”
Before talk of a new road trip though, there’s the current headline tour to complete, the release of “a few singles over the next couple of months” and then an album, to be recorded “towards the end of the year.”
Through it all, Estrons will remain “not in any way manufactured.” Whether you think that their music represents bitterness, frustration, feminism or all of the above, as Tali puts it: “I’m just representing myself.”