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Drunken Balordi are the musical equivalent of a particularly messy night

Hailing from Italy, South Africa, Ireland and New Zealand – and based in London – they throw everything but the kitchen sink at their boozy mix of gypsy punk, folk, dub, Joe Strummer worship and bleary-eyed drinking songs.

With a cacophony of accordions, fiddles and whisky-soaked vocals, tracks like the shambling Italian Nightmare – complete with a doff of the cap to The Clash’s Guns Of Brixton – are what it must sound like inside Shane MacGowan’s head.

There’s nothing pretty about Drunken Balordi – this is a puke stained, beer goggled portrait of bad decisions at 2am, so it’s quite possible that’s the best time to listen to it, sobbing into your kebab while locked out of your flat.

Emma has been writing about music for 25 years, and is a regular contributor to Classic Rock, Metal Hammer, Prog and Louder. During that time her words have also appeared in publications including Kerrang!, Melody Maker, Select, The Blues Magazine and many more. She is also a professional pedant and grammar nerd and has worked as a copy editor on everything from film titles through to high-end property magazines. In her spare time, when not at gigs, you’ll find her at her local stables hanging out with a bunch of extremely characterful horses.