wurstvilleThree days, no brakes, something to celebrate. That’s the state I’ve found myself in after constantly playing King Salami & The Cumberland Three. This is what music is all about: Transcending barriers that are put up by the music snobs.

How the hell do you get a Japanese punk joining forces with a French punk and then finding a Caribbean tennis teacher for oral scintillation? Then they come up with a name that covers a love of sausages, calling themselves “the best party band in the British Isles” And they pull it off. How?

The answer is Music, pure delightful music. Music that you dance to. Music that you can surf to. Music that you can chop wood to. Pure music.

This is the seventh album by King Salami & The Cumberland Three. “Going Back To Wurstville” is an electic mix of ‘50s R&B, some red hot soul thrown in with some surf, rockabilly and old school punk. You end up with this: a wonderful album,full of fabulous songs. There are no fillers here, folks, just 14 enticing tunes.

King Salami & The Cumberland Three is a North London band with members, King Salami, (Oral Scintillation and vocals), Eric Bacoinstrip (drums and cholesterol), Kamikaze U.T. Vincent (bass and karate), T-Bone Sanchez (guitar and Womanising) with guest narration and saxophone by the awesome Colonel La Dijonaise-Spencer. The band’s original guitarist, Pep Ronne, is now on organ and vegetables.

These guys got together in 2006 and have played gigs all over Europe, also taking in a couple of tours in Australia, hopefully with more to come. “Going Back To Wurstville” should be in every collection - if you’re inclined to collect songs with titles like “Pineapple Mama”, “Busy Body” and “Camel Hop”.

This record explodes out of the speakers with so much joy. Honestly, you can hear it in all the hidden surf riffs popping up. “Strutting Sue”, “Nosebleed Boogie” and “Tiger In Your Tank” are near perfect in their presentation. My ears will never be the same - or my knees.

This is the best album I have listened to in a long while.I just love it. It just goes off. So folks, get some maracas out, put your dancing shoes on, turn up them speakers and go wild.