Talk Taxis went to the Climate Change March and proved that, unlike most bands, they do actually give a shit about issues like climate change... and perhaps more importantly they are much, much harder than either Bono, or Chris Martin.

If this should be the last thing I write, then I would like my funeral to be carbon neutral and my coffin to be built with timber sourced from sustainable forests. I would also like it to be known that Talk Taxis are more than just a band… they are freedom fighters.

It was an ominous day from the outset - wet as a mother’s womb. I spent the morning watching BBC News 24, which just made me angrier. Arctic ice predicted to disappear by 2012, the US refusing to cap carbon emissions, and the usual flooding, typhoons and hurricanes. I packed the Molatovs into my rucksack and set off for Parliament on my bicycle.

The National Climate Change March was to begin at 12pm at Millbank, Westminster. The Filth were everywhere, but I didn’t break a sweat. I had my cover story. My comrades-in-arms at Don’t Panic had set up an ‘interview’ for me with some band called Talk Taxis – a bunch of bratty youths, I thought at the time, their little minds probably bent on the meaningless excesses of rock stardom as the world burns around them.

Tom at the march

In order to make my alibi appear convincing I had checked out their Myspace. It was against my better judgement that I actually enjoyed their songs – fast-paced, agile tunes with aggressive choruses that make you want to throw a brick or burn a flag.

I met Tom Carmichael, the bassist, and Dan Ajegbo, the drummer, a little after midday. Our 'photographer' arrived and took some snaps while we waited for the real march to kick off. I asked them some cursory questions to be civil. Both are just 17 and attend Graveney School in Wandsworth where they’re doing their A Levels. Singer Will White and bassist Nathan Knight are a little older. Neither was able to make the march - something about a hangover.

Dan surveys the crowd

I decided to test the band's green credentials and was surprised to hear about Dan's campaigning in his school. "He stands up in assembly," Tom told me (with a not altogether concealed hint of pride). "He tries to get people to use their bicycles more and to stop driving into school." Perhaps there was something to these kids after all.

"And do the other kids in your school listen?" I asked.

"Some… the year 11s don't seem to care so much, but the younger one's do. It's a generational thing."

‘Indeed, but you are only musicians,’ I thought to myself, ‘and young ones at that. What makes you think you can change anything?’ It was around this time that things started to get heated at the front of the march. We elbowed our way into the action and who should we see but Chris Martin wearing a fetching Che Guevara T-shirt and looking rather out of his depth in the midst of an group of anarchists. Chris waved a yellow foam rounders bat with some conviction, but as soon as the black block charged the lines of police I saw him slink away like an abused Dog's Trust Border Collie. It was around this time that we lost our photographer.

Dan and Tom, by contrast, were getting right in the thick of it. We charged the Old Bill, wave after wave until their ranks broke and we chased after them down Parliament Street.

Outside Downing Street a short man in obnoxiously large, orange sun glasses barked orders at anyone who would listen. It was Bono. At first we totally ignored him, but then Tom had a flash of inspiration for how the jumped up little leprechaun could be of use. We picked him up and used his massively over-inflated opinion of himself to knock down the gates.

Once inside we headed straight for Number 10. But as we reached the the front door we were faced with around 30 armed police. A cry went up from beside me and there was Geldof. He made a rather uncoordinated attack, bashing officers in the face with his honorary knighthood and roaring fiercely. However, he had to leave early to attend an opening at Claridges and soon we were left without any celebrity endorsement for our environmental revolution. Naturally things soon went from bad to worse. The Talk Taxis boys fought bravely, but we were outnumbered and were met with volley after volley of rubber bullets. One of them caught me in the chest and I blanked out.

And now I wake to find himself in the critical ward of UCL. They tell me I haven’t got long. I hear from my comrades that the Talk Taxis boys dragged me from the fray and carried me to A&E. In doing so they missed a gig they were supposed to be playing at the Old Blue Last. Bless those young lads! Maybe musicians can change the world after all.

Talk Taxis are releasing their next single as a free digital download. They hope to have a record deal by the end of the year, so get their music free now before they become just another money spinner for the corporate fat cats!

If you want to see the band live you can catch them this Friday at Mucha Marcha in Camden, on the Club NME tour in March and at the Astoria with Kate Nash.

Photography by William Pine