T.A.T. (There’s Always Time)’s debut EP Breathe prowls into life with the track of the same name; darkly moody and Bauhaus-esque in tone it stalks like a cold shadow carrying a jagged-edged knife. Sharon Watts—who vocally touches on Polystyrene-levels of pitch and passion—sings of escaping a coercive relationship with a conviction leaving no doubt the lyrics come from experience; a feeling of personality erosion and suffocation captured perfectly in the focus and obsessive mantra of Breathe that’s sung in the name of believing in the self to ride out the storm of anxiety the manipulative obsessive can force to run rampant in the innocent.

‘No Way Out’ ups the tempo but not the mood. A dance-floor filler for sure, the only question: will it be goths swaying ever more morbidly to Sharon’s shrieks while swathed within dry ice or punks stomping a path to mosh pit oblivion rallied by the very same cry?

There’s a lot to be said for where a band/artist is from, elements of location permeating the sound as a lightly fragrant spice. Much about Breathe reminds of the clenched-fisted vibe of Iron Maiden’s Killers; an album that encapsulates East London streets in the rain so-much-so anyone familiar with traipsing from East Ham tube station to the now-closed-but-still-legendary Ruskin Arms can smell the dank interaction with pavement that concocted to threaten potential violence round the next corner in the sound.

Here, though, despite the intensity in bounds, there’s a space in the sound, a gap not found in the gritty closed-in-ness of city high rises and narrow streets; instead an opposite feeling of being penned-in by desolation and expanse: no way out as there’s no way to get there; no way out as what’s seen of there via a TV screen is a World reeking of neon lights and shiny teeth, then in a split second the image changes to bombs dropping on starving people. So no surprise to learn T.A.T. hail from little villages that would’ve been surrounded by fields that seemingly ran endlessly to nowhere.

‘Confusion’ is a stark story of feeling isolated and not fitting in that reaches the echelons of schizophrenia and manic depression, but don’t let that dampen the groove from motoring ever on. It’s another track containing all the components necessary to get it well and truly stuck in one’s head. A compelling hook, plus lyrics to sing along to; and if hitting the high notes is out of range then the deep chant of the chorus is plenty infectious alone. 

‘Destroy (I Just Don’t Care)’ is a rally cry against caring about pretty much everything, tearing social norms and superficial pretension to shreds to do whatever the Hell all to the trademark T.A.T. dark swirling beat. It’s a fitting final song for it perhaps tells the story of the band and how it came to be more than any other.

The Good, the Old and the Forgetful

T.A.T.’s story starts all the way back in 1980 in the little South Gloucestershire village of Wick, a place the 2011 census registered as having a population of a mere 1,989.

Graham Watts (partner of lead vocalist Sharon) followed SUBHUMANS—a band from just over the road in Wiltshire—everywhere; punk providing something that couldn’t be found elsewhere in life. Inspired, he and some school friends with the same taste in music—no mean feat in a village that would’ve had a substantially smaller population all the way back then—formed a band.

The band managed to get a few recordings down with Graham on vocals before one member met a guitarist with far more experience than the rest of them put together who also just happened to be looking for a new band to work with.

In awe of the opportunity the new guitarist could bring he was welcomed into the fold as the most important piece of the puzzle. Unfortunately for Graham, the new guitarist had some firm ideas about where things needed to go and the sound of Graham’s voice wasn’t in the direction.

The band went on to become UK thrash legends Onslaught. Initially with Graham acting as roadie despite feeling he wasn’t good enough and that his band had been hijacked. Though wanting nothing more than to be up on stage and out on tour, Graham felt put in his place; that life held little more than low end grind and drudgery.

Things didn’t start to change until all the way in 2009 when Graham got involved helping Sharon’s son with activities; something that involved groups focused on kids with ADHD. This brought Graham into contact with BMX riding as a team sport. Here he noticed a culture of Haves vs. Have Nots and became determined to represent the underdog; an endeavour that saw his team of underprivileged kids win the South West Championship three times in the ten years he ran the team.

Motivated by social injustice, Graham had starting finding confidence.

Though it wasn’t until around 2016 that being involved with music again crossed his path when Sharon bought a cajón—a Peruvian drum box—and started an acoustical music project called Kickin Sistas with friend Mary Ball on guitar.

Once again Graham found himself stepping up to offer roadie services; and while 100% committed to supporting Sharon, he also had mixed feelings seeing his partner fulfil the dream he’d always wanted. Thoughts about what could have been mingled with joy for Sharon’s success.

Then Covid happened and the drudge and grind came to an almost complete halt.

Graham suddenly found himself with more time on his hands than he’d known since the age of fifteen.

Realising life was slipping away without his contributing anything artistic to the World, he decided to get a drum kit; a choice Graham admitted making so he could say it was for Sharon if things didn’t work out.

To confront thoughts of nothing he did being good enough that had haunted for decades, Graham started uploading footage of his having a bash to YouTube so as to get out of his comfort zone, frequently receiving positive feedback where he didn’t think any was due.

Still, each comment took him another small step in the right direction. Then the Powers That Be decided enough was enough and profit and money just couldn’t take anymore of people trying to avoid a potentially deadly disease, and Graham returned to the daily grind thinking that was pretty much the end of drumming online.

It took a Facebook ad by an all female punk band looking for a vocalist to get Graham back on track.

He thought it a good opportunity for Sharon . . . but in being extremely forgetful he forgot to mention it for weeks.

When finally remembering it turned out the band had filled the position; the band being none other than my favourite subject Hot Flab. Seeing that the ad had worked, Graham placed one of his own; it was answered within two hours by bassist Chris Guest.

Finding somewhere to meet and jam, Sharon went along to offer support only to end up penning lyrics for a song the very same night.

A guitarist was still needed and the response to that ad came from George McDonald, something that took Graham by surprise as he knew George to be guitarist in the band Hacksaw. He didn’t think for a second someone from an established band would be interested in joining what really was meant to be no more than a bit of a laugh, but George was happy to give it a go.

Graham is keen to express gratitude to George for giving the rest of them a chance, saying it was precisely his presence that made T.A.T. a ‘real’ band; McDonald’s experience and ability making him the glue to give the other members the necessary cohesion.

A month later they had seven songs in no small part thanks to Sharon’s ability to write lyrics on the spot once a tune had been put together.

Graham, though, still thought T.A.T. a long way from being ready to gig; while Sharon and Chris had other ideas, conspiring to get the band on a bill opening for WAGS to Wytches and the Bus Station Loonies (ironically Chris couldn’t make the date and luckily Mark Monitor of Loan Sharks was able to stand in).

Graham described taking to the stage that night as the only person who hadn’t done so before as not merely daunting but actually terrifying; and it was only after having taken such a drastically large personal step that he discovered the way monitors work meant Sharon’s voice wasn’t coming through his: following her vocals being the method by which he drums, not so much of a clue otherwise (honestly, pretty much Graham’s words!).

To counter this Sharon now gives Graham signals to indicate when songs end; but it’s not always a perfect system as lost in the moment Graham sometimes misses them only to find himself on the wrong end of a very hard glare.

In fact Graham isn’t even sure a song ever gets drummed the same twice, yet despite this he was asked to join another band after T.A.T.’s second only gig and has had numerous people describe the band as tight: ‘I never thought I’d be in a band called tight,’ Graham tells me with genuine surprise.

Initially the general reluctance of venues and promoters to give the band gigs felt age related, Graham being fifty-seven and the rest of the band in that ballpark. As Graham put it the ‘we’re new but we’re old’ angle didn’t seem to cut it, promoters not convinced a group of musicians in much part novice while equally on the verge of collecting pensions the best way to go.

---

Adrian Raeside’s hilarious old punks cartoon springs to mind (a massive thank you to Adrian for granting permission to use it here).

---

For Graham if felt much the same old rejection, the oft heard response of I don’t know what you sound like sounding hollow excuse. But the recording of the demo has shown that not to be the case with gigs now flying in.

Even the old members of Onslaught have been to see T.A.T. being full of compliments when they have, including the one who’d wanted Graham out, something that might’ve been accidentally taken as condescending if not for Sharon pointing out that all those years ago Graham had never been told he was rubbish or not good enough, instead simply not right for a particular sound.

Such compliments bewilder Graham given his being in the equation means he can’t help but feel the band sounds like it’s falling down a hill while still trying to play its instruments. Nonetheless, he has felt a massive release of anxiety thanks to the experience which, in comparison to his once lofty teenaged dreams, he describes as like spending a lifetime training for a marathon to then take so long to finish no one’s around to see the crossing of the line.

This, though, is in no way intended as disingenuous to those who do show up to watch T.A.T. but instead Graham’s way of expressing it’s the knowing he’s doing it that really matters, not the size of the crowd watching. Just someone and their dog turning up is plenty enough to leave Graham over the moon. 

This really is the crux of what makes T.A.T. so good: in true punk D.I.Y. fashion everything is for the right reasons and it shows in bounds; the doing and participation being far more important than precisely what’s being done. And as for the aspect of miles on the clock . . .

Old Age Punks they might be, but the sound, while very much having its roots in decades gone by, is fresh, vibrant; the perspective and lyrics centred on today, the blight of social media over some ancient complaint about the state and decline of the D.H.S.S.. If told this EP a new release from a bunch of up-and-coming early twenty-somethings, I’d be gushing about how well they’d captured the essence of gothic-infused punk while pumping plenty new energy and enthusiasm into it to make it relevant as ever.

Graham always had that enthusiasm but not the confidence and evidently has never lost a drop of the former while finding the latter. The ‘we’re old but new’ angle that Graham used to try describe the trouble getting gigs might in fact be the band’s greatest asset if realised for what it really means: T.A.T. isn’t a bunch of old timers simply airing songs that never made it further than the garage in the 80s or even a band still touring old material from the era. Instead, despite the age, they are very much a band of now; while that combined with the age makes T.A.T. somewhat unique.

If ever a band has lived up to its name it’s most definitely There’s Always Time!

Links:

• Bandcamp
• Spotify
• Facebook
• Instagram

To receive notifications of future posts of poetry—be they happy, sarcastic or sad—music history and reviews, the odd bit of this and that plus the occasional stab at promoting my books, please enter an email address below.

Sharing Icons: