Raised on a diet of musical indulgences from the likes of Beefheart and Velvet Underground whilst trapped on the Wirral Peninsula between the Mersey and the Dee; Jo Mary are currently cultivating a sound. A sound which strays away from the indie nothingness, the white grins and the shit mod aesthetic. Instead they offer up something that sounds like Warhol’s drug parties; a flurried sonic debauchery soaked in a generous helping of fuzz which makes the eyes dilate and the body slump.