This Leeds lass comes across like your mum's fave Victoria Wood spitting out the rhymes of Mike Skinner - one much, much less annoying than that sounds. There's fire in Broadhurst's belly and bile in her brain, while her fiery spoken witticisms rock and roar. You can't mosh to poetry, but if you could, then you'd mosh to this."
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Street poetry at its indispensable best, straight outta Leeds' dingy side streets. Though anger and injustice form the bedrock of Penny's sharp, well-conceived narratives, she possesses a cutting wit that lifts her work clean into another league. The inherent realism is reminiscent of The Streets, though delivered in a broad Yorkshire accent, while her infectious enthusiasm helps her highly intellectual pieces go down smoothly.
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Tricky stuff, spoken word. Without music to hide behind, you've really got to ensure your art is spot on to engage and connect with the listener. Yorkshire poet Penny Broadhurst has managed it perfectly on a sharp debut album though. 'Blue Bank' comprises nothing but the recital of 15 of Penny's poems, with some occasional, and effective, instrumentation (inner city electronica on '8 Mile High', a scratchy, Barrett-esque guitar on 'Scabby Queen' and some chunky beats on 'Rhythm Rebel'). Meanwhile, 'Dirty Pop' - a genius acerbic commentary on Pop Idol wannabees and indie chancers - deserves deference alone for the line "I think I might duet with Kylie/You know, talk shite barefoot like Jo Whiley". Quintessentially Northern, 'Blue Bank' perfectly captures the frustrations of modern day life. Crushingly honest, this is a defiantly urban record, full of dislocation and claustrophobia, but at times poignant, funny and wise. A talent to watch.
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Twenty-something Penny Broadhurst is no ordinary beat poet. On her debut spoken word/musical accompanied album, she ties dry working class satire to a collection of beats, biting witty statements and a fiercely independent set of rhymes, she almost justifies her claim to being "Victoria Wood meets The Streets."

Opening with ‘8 Mile’ inspired by the Eminem movie: Broadhurst spits out her disdain at poets who think that poetry being elitist is a good thing. Biting Rhymes like "I have no power if I only speak to the Guardian...I wanna inspire/Start Fires/Warm hearts/I wanna speak to the people and I wanna kick arse!" are backed by stuttering beats and electro splurges: its an impressive start. Elsewhere ‘Music One’ is a visceral physical description of the feeling that live music gives Penny, and humour and manic word play are mixed to good effect. Elsewhere ‘Hands’ is a stark love poetic monologue and ‘New Mills’ is a biting attack on deadened call centre lifestyle: sample line "If you don’t like it you can go somewhere else/British Gas /First Direct/Same shite, different bells."

‘Bus Park’ is a witty take on chavs and Bus Park gangs who I suggest might have criticised Penny as a youth. Penny steps out of herself here with her use of role play and the differences in her tone adding an extra dimension to this track.

‘Dirty Pop’ is a cousin of Morrissey’s 'The World is full of Crashing Bores, ripping into the superficiality of much of celebrity and Pop "It's so easy to knock out the verse/So why do Popstars lyrics get worse...Its just the same with poetry, I want to make the final three/There’s so much out there I could categorise/If that’s dismissive then I apologise/But I believe that I’ve something new, so come on Simon Cowell - we’ve got work to do."

‘Crosshatch’ is a moving attempt to tackle her mild disabilities, whilst the final track is the culmination of the album on a bed of beats, samples and guitars. ‘Rhythm Rebel’ might at first sound like the Streets-lite but as it grows it emerges as an honest, powerful set of rhyming. ‘Self Affirmation’ is mixed with justification of why Broadhurst is a poet "Three chords and the truth aren’t enough to cut it/No ifs and buts its open your mouth time/Put your heart on the line time/Give it all that you’ve got!...I know who I am now/but its not enough somehow to paper the cracks, make good my act/Make people like me if I’m so spiky"

Overall a good album, the musical accompaniment ranges from apt to light, however the rhyming is powerful and honest, with each track offering a witty snatch of northern working class life: well worth investigation.
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