The Lyon Tapes by The Inmates: A Pub Rock Gem Straight Outta France
Alright, let’s talk about The Lyon Tapes—a scrappy little rock album that feels like a late-night jam session at your favorite dive bar. Brought to you by The Inmates, this French pub rock masterpiece is raw, unfiltered, and dripping with attitude. Released under The Lyon Tapes Collection label, it's got all the grit and charm of a band that doesn’t care if you’re listening or not—but trust me, you’ll want to.
First off, props to the lineup: Peter Gunn (guitar/vocals) and Tony Oliver (guitar/vocals) bring the riffs and soulful howls, while Ben Donnolly holds down the basslines like he was born for it. Jon “Eddie” Edwards on drums? Dude’s keeping time like his life depends on it. Together, they’ve cooked up something special here—a mixtape-worthy collection of tracks that feel both nostalgic and refreshingly untamed.
Now, let’s dive into some standout tunes. You can’t skip over “Dirty Water.” Oh man, this one slaps. It’s got this swampy groove that pulls you in like quicksand. The guitars are greasy, the vocals are snarling, and there’s just enough chaos in the mix to keep things interesting. I mean, who doesn’t love a song that makes you wanna stomp around and spill beer everywhere? Every time I hear those opening chords, I’m instantly transported to some smoky underground club where everyone’s dancing like no one’s watching. Classic vibe, killer energy.
Then there’s “Unchain My Heart.” This track hits hard—not just because of its bluesy swagger but also because it’s impossible not to sing along to. When Peter Gunn belts out those lyrics, it’s like he’s pouring every ounce of frustration and longing straight into your ears. There’s this moment near the end when the guitar solo kicks in—it’s messy, sure, but so damn satisfying. Like biting into a burger that falls apart halfway through but tastes better than anything you’ve ever had. That’s what this song does to you.
Other highlights? Too many to list without rambling, but shoutouts go to “Move On” for its relentless drive and “Nervous Breakdown” for being the kind of tune that could soundtrack a chaotic night out. And hey, their cover of “Back In The USSR”? Bold move, guys, but they nail it. Feels fresh yet respectful, like borrowing your mate’s leather jacket and giving it back with a few extra scuffs.
What really sticks with me about The Lyon Tapes, though, isn’t just the music—it’s the vibe. Listening to this album feels like hanging out with old friends who don’t take themselves too seriously. They might trip over their words or knock over a drink or two, but damn if they aren’t having the time of their lives. And somehow, that makes you feel alive too.
So yeah, if you’re into rock ‘n’ roll that’s more spit-and-sawdust than polished chrome, give The Lyon Tapes a spin. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself craving a pint and a cigarette afterward. Funny thing is, as French as this record is, it feels universal—as if these songs have been waiting patiently in the wings of every jukebox since forever. Cheers to that.
