REVIEW: Little Barrie & Malcolm Catto—Electric War (2025)

Did someone say Album of the Year?

When drummer Virgil Howe tragically passed away in 2017, that could have been it for Little Barrie. Right on the cusp of a major tour for their Death Express album, it not only robbed the band of its energetic drummer, but their driving force.

But this devastating event lead to inviting The Heliocentrics’ Malcolm Catto to fill the drum stool, which has lead to one of the most compelling chapters in the band’s 25 year history. The first fruits, 2020’s low key Quatermass Seven showed immense promise, with its dark, smoky grooves, and a tentative effort to integrate Catto’s skittering breakbeats into the sound.

With the horror show of Covid delaying all attempts to promote the record, it wasn’t until the autumn of 2021 when the new lineup finally got on the road. Firmly drawing a line under the past, their set at King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut did not feature any material from the band’s previous 20 years—a tacit acknowledgement that the band had to charge forwards and write a new chapter.

That night, it was evident there were a bunch of songs that weren’t on the record, and they sounded fantastic. I’d never seen Malcolm Catto live, and it was instantly apparent what an incredible fit he was for the band, and what a top-tier drummer they had recruited. Needless to say, after this I checked out some Heliocentrics albums, and could fully understand why Barrie and Lewis turned to him in the band’s darkest hour.

But the kind of guest slot billing for Catto didn’t necessarily suggest another album would follow, and with Barrie almost permanently busy being the defacto gun-for-hire for everyone from The The to Liam Gallagher & John Squire over recent years, the opportunity to record, promote and tour another record was limited to say the least.

But, finally, Electric War has been unleashed, closing in on five years since the last record, and featuring almost all the incredible new songs I heard that night in Glasgow (yeah, I grabbed the set list that night—about six of the songs on this record were evidently already in the can even then).

The band play their hand early, with the stunning Electric War kicking off proceedings, taking Can’s relentless shuffling groove template and running with it, before Barrie wrestles his guitar into new shapes while Catto rides the waves. This far into the band’s career, it’s quite something to hear a song that tops anything they’ve ever done. The eternally youthful Barrie actually turned 50 in January, but on this evidence, he’s in the form of his life, both on a playing and songwriting level.

A couple of weeks ago I saw the band again, this time in London’s The Garage, and there was a frisson in the air about what we were about to see. At times, following Little Barrie is like being in on the best-kept secret, but those in the know will readily admit they’re some of the finest musicians on the planet. In attendance that night were at least three other musicians/bands I own records by. This is a band even the bands want to see.

Suffice to say, they did not disappoint. I’ve been watching the various incarnations of the band consistently since first encountering them do a blistering set supporting The Bees in 2004, and somehow the band keeps on finding ways to improve. Live and on record, the locked-in interplay between the three of them is utterly mesmeric, delivering a masterclass of dynamics, ebbing and flowing, focused and taut when it needs it, loose and grooving as a payback, with furious energy coming in bursts to take us home.

One of my favourite elements of their sound and general demeanour is they reach superhuman levels of musicianship without a whiff of smugness. There’s always been a humbleness to the band. One time in 2011, I hadn’t received a vinyl copy of King Of The Waves from HMV, and I posted on the band’s socials to enquire. Barrie messaged me on Facebook: “What’s your number mate?” Next thing I know, he’s inviting me to meet him on the corner of Denmark Street, and hands me a copy of the album, gratis. Who does that? What a total legend. That speaks volumes about the man, and his approach to being in this business.

Now with two albums worth of material to draw upon, the band run through their dark lo-fi grooves with a such consummate excellence. The power of dynamic live music versus the studio perfection is fully on show throughout. But the great thing about hearing these tracks after hearing them live is the knowledge that they have not overcooked them in the studio. Electric War is an album with light touch production, capturing the true sound of the band. Anyone who has ever tried to do this knows how hard that really is. It’s why The La’s Lee Mavers tried to record his one and only album about eight times, and hasn’t released anything since 1991.

And without being too much of a vinyl bore, this is a record you’re going to want to spin on a good deck. The band doesn’t go into any detail about what gear they used, or anything, but you can bet it was done with craft and love, and a likely nerdy-as-hell devotion to capturing an analogue sound. If that was the plan, it worked. The album sounds incredible booming out, with Lewis’s subtle bass throb underpinning the record, giving a suitable platform for the others to weave their magic over the top.

Is it too early to talk about Album of the Year contenders? I guess it is, but I can’t help but think that this will be flying high at the top come November when everyone does their lists. There’s an indefinable magic to everything on this record, and all I can really ever do is implore you to go out and support these artists however you can. But their album, wear a t-shirt, grab a poster. Tell a mate. They will thank you for it.

Welcome back Little Barrie. When the world is going to shit, you provide the tunes to neutralise the toxin.