The Southern Wild

York

You may have heard that The Southern Wild were found hanging from a tree outside Warakurna, raw and untamed. Roped and branded, they were boxed and shipped to northern England to be displayed to cheering crowds at freak shows and other music festivals. You may know this not to be true. You may know that The Southern Wild sprang, full-grown, from the belly of a bison just outside Little Rock, Arkansas. You may know that they plied their trade on the decks of trans-Atlantic liners until jumping ship in Liverpool and crossing the Pennines on foot. Some say it wasn't a bison, but a big, dead dog. And that it was by the side of the road leading out of Marseilles and east down the coast. You may believe all of this to be a tissue of lies, that a truth far more mundane hides behind these words, that a small group of musicians of diverse backgrounds and no small experience simply met up and started playing music together. Some, all or none of the above may be true. But in a world made drab and dreary by the tedium of everyday existence, here you may choose to believe an alternative exists. And why wouldn't you?