Introducing former teen sensations from small market town, civil parish, capital of the Peak District and home of the Pudding, Bakewell.

Friends since before they remember, purchased instruments at 15, never learned them and churned out bangers ever since. Early efforts were snot-nosed and short, brilliant and bratty. With advancing years the noses have dried up but the hits? No way!

Bands begin. Bands end. Styles come. Yes, styles also go. The Hipshakes just carry on in their own vein of whatever-the-hell-it-is they do.

Pair of guitars, some drums, a bass; everyone writing songs and everyone singing them.

Hipshakes:

• - travelled the world
• - hundreds of gigs
• - handfuls of records
• - cheered and jeered in equal measure.

If they measured success in such ways (which they don’t) they’d list the sweet bands they’ve shared the stage with.

On said stage (more likely floor) the following words can be applied in various measures: fun, frantic, incompetent, compelling, confusing.

Two things for sure though: the past dozen years may not have dimmed the Hipshakes’ ferocious exhilaration but certainly have honed their acute, mega-mondo smash hit pop nous.

Boy, oh boy, it’s been a wild ride. Ride with us