A dysfunctional pop group from London, Hands On Heads write abrupt, to the point, non-repetitive songs about unrequited friendship, romantic potential, the supernatural everyday, righteous joy and expectation. Their songs rarely scale the dizzying heights of the two minute mark, relying on shock and awe songwriting tactics to get their message across.

Hands On Heads don't believe in reiteration, they make a point with emphasis, then move on to the next fractured song of double-speed dynamics and feral abandon. The guitar lines jump from fret to fret like ten spiders on a web of chaotic noise, the organ - always pitched at a haunting seasick echo - is played like a stenograph, whilst the drums tumble and blast along with the savage bass, the songs forever pushed onwards by the fervent vocal attack.

Hands On Heads' debut release proper is this split 10" with their friends The Sticks. It's a meeting of messed up minds that documents a shared surpise at the expressive freedom pop music can yield, when it's adventurous and playful, and creating it's own thinking party sound.

The spooked lyricism and frantic spontaneity of Hands on Heads' music perfectly complements the heartfelt gooey blues of The Sticks, which leaks from the brake cables of this clattering runaway train of a record. These are two bands writing their own future in their awkward, instinctual yet ever-involving compositions, and that daring bridge of kinship is the rationale for them to share these two sides of wax.

The split is released on green and red dipped vinyl, limited to 500 copies only, and housed within a hand-screened sleeve.