During a chance meeting of three primitive souls roaming the Chalk Ridge of the Surrey North Downs, a friendship was forged on a mutual love of flora and fauna and a promise to start a band with a purpose to create skin blistering indie rock.

To create music that would equal the melodious song and soul of the undulating Linnet, a bird whose innocent kind is being driven to ground by technocrats and rampant careerism.

Swords of Thought forge a combustive melee of tense confused rock delivered at maximum volume, think Sonic Youth tig welded to Dusty in Memphis, Sebadoh caressing the cheek of Tony’s Maria all swathed in glorious love, volume, happiness and noise.

Primitive howls, one beat.