[33s] Eg & Alice, 24 Years Of Hunger

In a world where Belle & Sebastian release records, Brother Beyond’s ex-drummer and a female BMX champ scoop the improbable accolade of making the feyest album ever. 24 Years Of Hunger is fragile, starkly emotional and talks about going "for a smoke at Josh’s house". It’s also lovely. I bought it in that difficult second year at university, when you’re forging your identity away from the raucous first year gangs; its jazzy, pristine pop fitted with my Prefab Sprout and Scritti Politti affinities, and the boho Notting Hill seemed so glamorous. Alice sang with a gossamer, broken voice, Eg with a throaty, quiet roar, and they watched over their W11 friends like a louche Zeus and Hera, chronicling the banal and the parochial with a tender eye. It doesn’t seem so obscure now that I’ve spent 15 years bothering my friends with it. They don’t know how lucky they are.

(A version of this piece appeared in The Guardian's '50 Secret Weapons' on November 3, 2006)