RGG December 2016 - p.34
We know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking:
“Why should I care about The Urban Voodoo
Machine? They’ve been around for ages,
haven’t they? Aren't they a novelty band who
wears funny make-up? Don't they sometimes
play jazz? Aren’t half of them dead or
something?”
So bear with us, sunshine, cos you clearly need
educating.
The story starts with Paul-Ronney Angel, a man
with a double-barrelled first name. I could be a
wanker about this and say the story starts with
Bon Scott-era AC/DC – with Tom Waits, or the
Clash, Louis Armstrong, The Pogues, The
Sensational Alex Harvey Band, Johnny Cash,
Lionel Bart or Bertolt Brecht – but let’s stick with
Paul-Ronney, it’s quicker.
Paul-Ronney Angel ate his parents and fled the
fjords of Norway with just a bottle of
moonshine and several slices of decomposing
Plus support DARK CIRCUS
fish in his back pocket... before he left they tried
him in the Norwegian Army – he lasted a total
of five hours. After that, Angel washed up in
London during the dying breaths of Thatcherism
and took advantage of all that swinging London
had to offer: He sold The Big Issue, busked
Johnny Thunders & Robert Johnson numbers
in Soho bus stops and played guitar for anyone
who'd have him.
The Urban Voodoo Machine came to him in
2002 as a fully-formed idea. He'd lead a band
who'd play ‘Bourbon Soaked Gypsy Blues
Bop’n’Stroll’. They’d dress in black and red.
There would be a LOT of them. And their music
would sound like a great night out in a
dangerous part of town. From the get-go, The
UVM fused junkyard blues and stinging
rockabilly with mariachi horns, fiddles, sinister
cabaret and punk rock tangos.
"I wanted to play
rock'n'roll
music
with
a
different
instrumentation,"
says Angel,
"taking inspiration
from everything from delta blues, latin and
