Three borderline human beings.

Jim Spiv with his big hat and recherché choice of vocabulary from the heart of central Bradford. Nic Spiv narrowly avoiding arrest escaping from Keighley in ‘Badcat’ the mighty Jag. Mick Spiv riding into town to the strains of the black beauty theme tune.

We’re called the Spivs for a few reasons, the main reason because we are purveyors of good shit in hard times like a 1940′s wideboy with a banana up his sleeve. We considered renaming ourselves ‘The Grifters’ to account for a neat little sideline in Sharking. But we suspected many would mistake us for being three raleigh bicycles. Nic is a lady of good virtue and is keen to avoid being referred to as a bike. Another good choice would have been ‘The Mandrills’ on account of our fascination with shed based baboons, but ‘The Spivs’ it is. It’s also easier to say after a few rounds of VDC. It’s very passe to call your band anything starting with ‘The’ but If we wanted to attract attention with our name we could have gone for…

‘Bhangra Beats Down The National Front Disco’….or the slightly catchier

‘Cheese Infested Bell-Ends Of The Rich And Famous’

However being naturally as cool as slim green hothouse produce we will defiantly hold on to the definite article. We have various different axes to grind, and it’s taken a long time for us to find each other so we can grind them together…or at each other! Mick is a natural warmonger with a foul mouth, Nic is a git in the manner of most small people (Napoleon, Hitler), Jim is the fraudulent ambassador of peace after soaking his soul in Memphis and hanging out with Al Green and because he’s big enough to knock the little spivs brains out.

I should point out however that Jim is not from Bradford, Nic is not from Keighley and Mick is not a southerner. Nic and Mick are from Leeds and Jim is from Manchester (which is on the correct side of the Pennines).