*(AKA me. Trying not to sound too schizophrenic. It's not working, is it?)
So, we are The Fake Aunts. Which is something of a misnomer, what with us not actually being aunts. Or, at least, we weren't, when the band first got together. We are now, which puts something of a downer on it. Expect a rebrand to The Very Authentic Aunts any time soon...
Anyway, after that dreadful opening, what we wanted to do was to let you know about Some Stuff Wot We Wrote (and sang, and played the guitar really badly in). Which, terribly excitingly, you can now get on amazon.com. (That's the American version of Amazon, but apparently even us remote British people are allowed to access it and buy things. Which is very good news.) Once we'd finished falling off our own chairs with the excitement of it all (not to mention the magnum of champagne we downed in celebration), our thoughts turned to Telling Everyone We'd Ever Met Ever about this Stuff Wot We Wrote. And they weren't interested. So we thought we'd turn to random strangers instead.
Basically, there are two strands to The Fake Aunts. As follows:
Strand One. We write about and sing about nice, whimsical folky stuff. Lots of wistful laments about unrequited love, that kind of thing. A good soundtrack to relationships which are going wrong, pets which are being put down, bins which aren't being collected. That kind of thing. The album's called What We've Not Got, and here it is: http://www.amazon.com/What-Weve-Not-Fake-Aunts/dp/B00ICZJ72W/ref=sr_1_2?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1397500298&sr=1-2&keywords=The+Fake+Aunts
Strand Two. The album is called Clitoris. It's 'Explicit'. We figured if that wasn't enough to get people interested... In this album one of us lets all of the mad thoughts which are trapped inside her head fall out in the form of a collection of songs about clitorii, saggy tits and Des Lynam. (The other one of us bravely goes along with this madness and makes them sound far more beautiful than they have any right to.) It's... eclectic. And probably not one to play to your children. Or parents. Or anyone who's sober, basically. Here it is: http://www.amazon.com/Clitoris-Explicit-Fake-Aunts/dp/B00ICZJ6XM/ref=sr_1_1?s=dmusic&ie=UTF8&qid=1397500336&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Fake+Aunts
We'd LOVE (in an almost carnal sense) for you to click on either one of the two links above (dependent on your Myers-Briggs personality type) and go and have a listen to the little free fragmenty bit that you get on Amazon (in which we might almost sound okay). Then, if you're really brave/henpecked/drunk, you might even want to go and buy one or two of the tracks. And that's great, because that will keep us in enough gin to create the next ode to an OAP celebrity with an awesome moustache. Finally (Mum... Dad... people who owe me money), you might actually decide to leave us a lovely Amazon review telling us how brilliantly lovely we are, and how much you love to listen to songs about getting your genitals caught in zips. And that will really, really make our day.
Much love and many clitorii (well: two, actually... we're not quite that odd),
The Fake Aunts xxx