Place is a surprisingly important aspect of music. It can effect the quality of sound, the mood or character of a band and taken in concert with the time can define the breakout genre of a generation.
The Decadent Marsupials are very much a product of Lancaster, a small but insignificant University town (technically a city but she’s fooling no-one) in the North-West of Ingurland.
This Brighton of The North, nestled between blasted fell moors and the treacherous tidal flats of Morecambe Bay, steeped in less than salubrious history and dressed in faded and stained Georgian splendor, the ancient seat of the Dukes of the Red Rose; Lancaster has a flat-cap cosmopolitan air and isn’t at all bitter about having seen better days. With lumpy tufts of 2500 year old ancient Briticsh settlement, Roman remains from the time of The Christ sat alongside grand Regency houses built from slave-trade profits and the obligatory rows of terraced tenements, Lancaster was once the County town of Lancashire, the birthplace of linoleum and runner-up in the War of the Roses.
Famed for it’s monumental folly; being the place of execution of the Pendle Witches; having a hand in the formation of the Quaker movement and possibly being one of the templates for the twin cities of Ankh-Morpork, Lancaster sits on the River Lune (once the most irradiated stretches of inland waterway in Western Europe) which divides it from the former Victorian seaside resort of Morecambe. Like an aged courtesan she hides her advancing years under a thick layer of slap and flouts her few remaining wares whilst attempting a rheumatic sashay in her moth-eaten finery from a bygone era.
For all her idiosyncrasies the city is creative and dynamic beyond it’s size. With a healthy music and arts scene, it’s population swollen by well to do students (many of whom from distant shores) Lancaster gave birth to the Decadent Marsupials. We (probably) draw from the history and cultural mashup of our home town as much as from the places and musical styles we’ve each encountered on our psycho-geographic rambles.