With its punk fired scrowl and ska driven tremours
Radical Dance Faction skitter over the failing cracks of known ground.
They seek a new future formed by their founding father Chris Bowsher,
Whose fights through class admit fervour to these urgently phrased workman’s
Sound. Daydream Dystopia shows the mire we have allowed to grow over,
Our heads for the rolling are for the first time in danger from the axe wielding elite
We despise. And yet these songs fuse and form as Bowsher’s buried Brecht stalks the social, declaring dread and desire through both sharp confrontation and stark, sad reflection in an old man’s eyes.
Thick drapes of sound chime and charm as the radical dance moves each freedom. Across scars and salvation RDF
Leave their mark. The calls have been charged. All debts are off. Bowsher’s waiting.
Return at once. The receiver is waking you up from the dark.
Each song charts the change of breath into fire. The music struts and surges as each lyric arcs, and also arks, as Bowsher’s words provide shelter. RU1. Rogue Trooper. Each song wields the weather to prise open endeavour through the bite and the burn of craft’s spark.
The Dystopia warps, music deepening
Across promise to show that the sounds of the future in Bowsher’s words,
‘would,could and should’ be better than the broken hands we’ve been dealt.
The Radical Dance dances on.
Fuck the known news.
Find the future.
You are the faction
That recognises the glory
In everything you once felt.

David Erdos  International Times