Archive for the ‘Live’ Category

The Royal Ritual / Neon Fields / Material Goods – The Fulford Arms, York, 24th July 2024

Posted: 27 July 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Being restricted to live shows within walking distance of one’s house really does change one’s perspective and selections. As much as it also significantly limits my options, I’m fortunate to have no fewer than three venues within this range, and spotting that The Royal Ritual – a band I’ve long been aware of but have never witnessed live – were playing at one of them provided more than enough of a poke to get out.

It’s not exactly heaving. That is to say, come 8:15, it’s still pretty quiet, even for a Wednesday night. But then, I noticed that York was conspicuously quiet all day today: driving almost empty roads to a near-dead Tesco was as welcome as it was strange earlier in the day. The first week of the school summer holidays, and it seems everyone has buggered off – apart from the tourists clogging the town centre, which was far from quiet in the afternoon. But tourists tend not to seek out relatively unknown alternative bands playing a mile or two out of town. They should. Live music is as integral to a city’s nightlife as its pubs and bars and so on. I once ditched a conference dinner in favour of a gig when visiting Stirling, having clocked that maybeshewill were playing, and in the process, discovered And So I Watch You from Afar, who absolutely blew me away, plus I got to explore a new venue. It was a memorable event, and one which has stuck with me. It’s unlikely the alternative would have had quite the same impact – and while I’ll never know, as someone who’s uncomfortable dining with strangers and making small talk, I’m as comfortable with my choice now as then.

Comfortable isn’t really my default, and caving crawled out of my bunker, this is an evening I’m quite content to hide in a dark corner with a pint and observe.

Material Goods are a last-minute replacement for Dramalove. It’s a solid, blank name which suits the duo’s style, which comprises some heavy, complex synth work paired with live percussion – and quite outstanding live percussion at that. The processed vocals are a bit muffled, but overall, the sound is dark and dense and the drums really cut through it with energy and force. Essentially, their palette is 90s alt rock, a bit NIN but with a vague dash of nu metal, and a bit Filter, too. Multitasking and a vast amount of gear affords the singer limited scope for movement on stage, but the sound has a really good, strong energy, despite the songs being pretty downtempo and downbeat.

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Material Goods

With Material Goods overrunning and Neon Fields also possessing an immense amount of flash-looking tech which needed setting up, we’re fifteen minutes behind time when they take to the stage. Sonically, they’re astonishing. Playing a hundred-and-twenty-five-capacity pub venue, they sound like half a million quid’s worth of gear in an arena. And the songs match it. They sound like they look: black clad, tattoo bands, neatly-trimmed beards, big, soaring emotional outpourings… And completely lacking in soul. Christ, this guy’s level of emotional trauma is enough to raise the blood pressure to induce a heart attack. Wracked with anguish and all of the pain of the lovelorn, the love-torn… And yet it’s all articulated so blandly, everything is so slick, and so one-level. The theatre soon wears thin, and I start to forget I’m listening to it while I’m listening to it. It doesn’t help that there’s a group of four people bang in front of me gabbing on and pricking around, pulling faces, play-fighting, the guys trying to impress the birds by demonstrating their strength by lifting one another up… they get shushed by a fan but even the absence of their distraction doesn’t really improve the experience. There’s some earnest, meaningful falsetto, and the penultimate song had some cliché tribal drumming, and they wrapped up their bombastic set ten minutes after the headliner was due on.

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Neon Fields

The Royal Ritual are also a duo who have an extremely ‘produced’ sound. But their approach to production owes more to the methods of Trent Reznor as pioneered in the early 90s on Broken and The Downward Spiral, balancing gritty live guitars with synths and fucked-up distortion and harnessing their tempestuousness in a way that creates a balanced yet abrasive sound. David Lawrie plays live electronic drum pads in addition to the sequenced beats, adding dynamics and live energy to proceedings, and flitting between the drum pads, synths, and mic stand, he’s incredibly busy throughout the set. But something about Lawrie’s delivery highlights everything that was absent on Neon Fields, and just carries so much more weight: the whole package brings a rush of adrenaline propelled by that emotional heft and solid force.

Objectively, the feel is very Stabbing Westward, and goes hard NIN at times in its combination of guitar, synths, and sequenced and live electronic drums. The Royal Ritual are strong on dynamics and atmosphere, and Lawrie is an intense and compelling performer.

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The Royal Ritual

He does break out of the moody persona to thank other bands and plug merch, but what do you do? In the current climate, bands sadly need to plug the stall. The fact that David steps out of broody tortured soul for two minutes of affable chap may seem hard to reconcile, but then, this perhaps speaks more of the human condition than remaining ‘in character’; people are complex and conflicted, multifaceted and inconsistent. And this is what truly lies as the heart of tonight’s performance by The Royal Ritual. Digging deep into the complexities of the psyche, there’s something about the duo’s performance that gouges into the flesh and demands contemplation.

Ruts DC – The Crescent, York, 18th July 2024

Posted: 21 July 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Forty-five years on from the release of their debut album, The Crack, The Ruts – or Ruts DC as they subsequently became – as still going, and perhaps unexpectedly, they’ve been more prolific in the second half of their career than the first.

Having released two Electracoustic albums – stripped back versions of material from their back catalogue, they’re back on the road with this format, too. The trio seated in a line on the stage befits a band whose members are in their late sixties / early seventies. They’re done being ‘cool’ or staying ‘punk’: “punk’s dead”, Segs shrugs at one point during tonight’s set. It’s striking just how honest and open they are during the lengthy intros and meandering anecdotes which seem to spring spontaneously, often without punchlines or clear endings. These are off-the-cuff, unrehearsed, down the pub type chats, which provide some real insight into the workings of the band and its members. Unpretentious, grounded, it’s a joy to feel this kind of intimacy with a band of such longstanding who truly qualify – and it’s not a word I use often – as legends.

They’re a band at ease with one another and the audience, Ruffy particularly happy to be back in his home town and regaling us with a lengthy tale about his early life, his father, and shoplifting out of necessity.

Not being able to get out so much lately, I have to pick my nights out carefully and strategically, and I had been in two minds about this one, for a number of reasons. But within minutes, it became apparent that coming down had been the right decision. Y’see, music can reach parts that practically nothing else can. Once comes to associate songs, bands, albums, with people, places, life experiences. They become indelibly connected, for better or worse. And The Ruts are a band who carry substantial emotional, reflective weight for me on a personal level. Of course, this is about me rather than the band, but this is a contemplation on how we engage with music and how songs and bands, become the soundtrack to our lives, and it’s something we only really realise in hindsight. And I feel that sharing the details of this complex and intimate relationship with a band is part of a dialogue we need to open up.

I was around thirteen or fourteen when I began hanging round the second-hand record shop where I would subsequently become the Saturday / holiday staff. The owner was – to me, being fifteen years my senior – an old punk, and he introduced me to a shedload of bands, and would air-bass around the shop to ‘In a Rut’, a song he would also cover with his band. This song – indubitably one of THE definitive punk singles – would become an anthem to me in my life, a song I always play to remind myself to get my shit together when times are tough. If punk has a solid link with nihilism, ‘In a Rut’ provides a counterpoint, as a rare positive kick up the arse. It’s a song I play when I need to remind myself that I need to get my shit together. It must surely be one of the greatest songs of all time. And what a debut! And that was even before ‘Babylon’s Burning’…

The first time I met my (late) wife’s dad – who died in 2003 at the age of 50 – he was blasting The Ruts and Rage Against the Machine on his car stereo, and I knew immediately we’d get on well. And we did. He was a grumpy fucker who hated anything establishment, and had great taste in music.

And so The Ruts and Ruts DC are a band who run a thread through my life. I find it hard to hear them without a pang of sadness, but ultimately, they’re an uplifting experience, and this is so, so true of tonight’s show.

‘Music Must Destroy’ makes for a strong opener and provides an opening for a not-quite anecdote about number-one fan Henry Rollins (another hero of mine and my wife’s, we got to see The Rollins and numerous spoken word performances, including one which included an expansive tale of his obsession with The Ruts and how he came to front the band at their reunion fundraiser for guitarist Paul Fox in 2007), who provided additional vocals to this, the title track of their 2016 album. It provides an early reminder of the fact that they’re more than merely a heritage band, and that they’ve always been, and continue to be, political.

‘West One’ and ‘Love in Vain’ land early, and the range and quality of the material stands out a mile. The set spans punk, reggae, rockabilly, anthems… and they have songs that mean something, too.

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One thing that sets Ruts DC’s acoustic(ish) sets apart isn’t that the lead guitar has some pedals and tweaks and that it’s not a straightforward acoustic strum, but the fact the arrangements rightly bring the details to the fore. Listen to The Crack and it’s apparent that the basslines are special. And paired down, you can really hear everything that’s going on. Their material is so much more than the lumpen three-chord thud of regular pub-rock derivative punk. They switch slickly into dub mode, with echoed rimshots and booming heavy bass, and the sound – and musicianship – is outstanding.

‘Something That I Said’ arrives as the penultimate song of set one, before closing with a new song, ‘Bound in Blood’ that’s a strong new wave cut. And suddenly, with the introduction of an electric guitar, it’s louder, too.

The second set is more electric, but still minimal in terms of arrangement, and stripped back: ‘Dope for Guns’ shows the song’s solid structure. It’s a rapturous experience to hear them powering through ‘Staring at the Rude Boys’ and ‘Babylon’s Burning’ towards the end of the set, and then to hear them segue ‘In a Rut’ with a full-lunged rampant chorus of Neil Young’s ‘Rockin’ in the Free World’ was truly rapturous. Again, there’s a personal element here: a song I associate with my wife, and a song she in turn inherited from her dad, I found myself shedding a tear at hearing a great song well-played. It wasn’t just a token gesture to enhance and pad the set: they meant it and felt the power of the sentiment. And right now, we need to cling to that. These are dark and fucked-up times.

They ramped things up to slam in a fully electric, fully punk rendition of ‘Criminal Mind’ to draw the curtain on the night. And what a night. And what a band.

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While they do still thrive on their early material, and do it justice, they have so much more to offer, too, and significantly, they’re not attempting to recreate the experience of the late 1970s with some sad old punk nostalgia trip. They’re clearly happy onstage – that is to say, loving the fact they’re up there, still going, and playing these songs. They’ve every reason to be: tonight, they deliver solid gold.

From the Vaults All-Dayer – York Vaults, 15th June 2024

Posted: 16 June 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

The prospect of Objections making a return to York was incentive enough to snaffle a ticket for this some time in advance, without even paying too much attention to the rest of the lineup initially, but Teleost and The Bricks provided two strong reasons to get down early, and a fair few others clearly thought the same.

All-dayers tend to have a couple of acts people aren’t especially fussed about at the bottom of the bill, often newer acts cutting their teeth, so kicking off with a brace of well-established local talents proved to be a combination of coup, genius programming, and an indication of the quality of the bill – which, in the event, didn’t include a single weak or dud act from beginning to end.

Another rare – and impressive – thing about this lineup is that it features just one all-male act. When you hear so many promoters responding to accusations of gender inequality and a lack of representation by whining about how they struggle to find and book bands with women, it feels like a massive cop-out. And here’s the proof. Eight bands, and only one that slots into the stereotypical white male bracket – and then again, they possibly get an exemption on account of their age bracket (that is to say, they’re probably about my age bracket). Anyway.

The last time I saw them, supporting Part Chimp, Leo Hancill and Cat Redfern were playing as Uncle Bari. Now they’re Teleost, and they’ve totally nailed their slow, sludgy sound. The guitar sounds like a bass, the drums sound like explosions, and it’s a mighty, mighty sound. Slow drumming is always impressive to watch, and hear, and Cat it outstanding, in every way, a hard-hitter who makes every single slow-mo cymbal crash count. They’re properly slow and heavy, with a doomy heft, but with folky vocals. The contrast is magnificent and makes Teleost a unique proposition.

It’s been a few months since I’ve seen The Bricks, and yet again they seem to have upped their game. Their set is punchy and forceful, led by a fierce vocal performance from Gemma Hartshorn. As a band, they’ve really hit their stride, and having got a fair few gigs under their belts now, they’re super-tight.

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The Bricks

Instant Bin are a busy-sounding indie duo who knock out short songs packed tightly, and they’re good entertainment, while Knitting Circle are very unlike the somewhat twee, whimsical and fluffy indie band their name suggests. They offer up some tense, mathy, angular noise with a hint of The Fall and Gang of Four, and are very much about tackling issues, with a strong anti-war song, and a song about menopause (‘Losing My Eggs’) while ‘I am the Fox’ which about fox hunting (and no, they’re not in favour) which takes its stylistic cues from Gang of Four’s ‘Not Great Men’.

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The Knitting Circle

Objections – who I also last saw supporting Part Chimp, but on a different occasion – are out hot on the heels of the release of their debut album. As you’d expect from a band with their pedigree, they’re seriously strong. A tight set of noise played with precision, propelled by some magnificently crisp jazz drumming and busy baselines that nag away, they’ve got everything nailed down. The three of them each bring something unique as performers, and they’re simply great to watch in terms of style and technique. Joseph O’Sullivan’s guitar work is so physical, lurching and bouncing here there and everywhere, and working magic with an oscillator on top; Neil Turpin looks like he’s in another world, a drummer who seemingly feels the groove instead of counting time, while Claire Adams is intently focused – seemingly on the vocals, while the fast fretwork on the bass seems to happen subconsciously. They are, in so many ways, a quintessential Leeds act, both sonically and in terms of cult status. They’d have made worthy headliners, but public transport dictated their much earlier slot. Then again, there seems to be a lot of merit to spreading the quality more evenly.

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Objections

After a clattering avant-jazz intro, The Unit Ama launch into some sinewy math rock with some serious blasts of abrasion interspersed with some meandering jazz discordance. They’re certainly the most unexpected act of the night. Despite having been around some twenty-three years, having played around the north and north-east quite extensively in that time, even opening for Fugazi in their early years, and releasing music on a label that also gave us music by That Fucking Tank, they’re still completely new to me. Their set is wildly varied and intriguing: deep prog with an experimental jazz element – showcasing the kind of shudder and judder, rattle and crash cymbal breaks that you’re more likely to hear in Café Oto than a pub in York on a Saturday evening, whereby it’s hard to determine at times if they’re highly technical or just tossing about like chimps messing about to see what noise they can make. It’s expansive work which makes for a compelling and intriguing set.

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The Unit Ama

Wormboys are again interesting, and varied, but in a completely different way. The four-piece present a broad range of indie stylings with some strikingly athletic vocals. In places, they’re atmospheric, haunting, moving. Elsewhere, there are some motorik sections and big blasts of noise, and visually. they’re striking, with an imposing and lively bassist centre stage with the two guitarists, who also share vocals, either side.

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Wormboys

The crowd had thinned a little by the time Cowtown took the stage, meaning a few missed out on their brand of buoyant synthy indie with good energy. Another frequent-gigging stalwart act on the Leeds scene, they provide another reminder of the quality of the scene between Leeds and York, and this magnificently-curated event showcased that quality.

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Cowtown

That a number of the bands took time out during their sets to speak out on political issues, from giving praise for bands pulling out of Download, espousing people power, encouraging people to vote, and trans rights  – to use their voices, in any capacity, and even simply providing a ‘fuck the Tories’ call of disenfranchisement, it’s heartening to feel that we have bands who are politically engaged and using their platforms for more than mere entertainment. In bleak times, that there is a real sense of artistic community among such disparate acts gives a sense of hope. That hope may be misplaced, but to just step sideways from all of the shit for a few hours, immersed in a bubble, with beer and live music is the perfect escape. We should do this again sometime.

BIG | BRAVE / Aicher – The Lending Room, Leeds, 25th May 2025

Posted: 26 May 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Having shown a remarkably consistent rate of output, with three albums in just over three years (four if you include their collaboration with The Body), BIG | BRAVE have also maintained a similarly solid touring schedule, which has for the lucky people of Leeds brought them to the city on each of their last three circuits which have brought them to the UK.

On record, BIG | BRAVE achieve a rare intensity, and while heavily reliant on drone, feedback, slow, heavy percussion – things familiar to fans of numerous bands like Earth, Sunn O)), and Swans, they demonstrate a unique approach to songwriting and structure, and an ability to tap into raw emotion in a way which goes far deeper than mere words. Live, however, they’re simply so much more. All of these elements are amplified – and not just in the literal sense by means of their towering backline. Oftentimes, the first time of seeing an outstanding live act draws you back in the hope of recreating that initial ‘wow’ moment. But anyone who’s seen lots of live music will likely agree that great as subsequent experiences are, they never have quite the same impact. It’s incredibly rare – in fact practically unheard of – for an act to hit that same spot more than once. BIG | BRAVE are that rare thing: despite high expectations, they always seem to pull out something extra and surpass those expectations.

The hype from people I know in real life and virtually for these shows, particularly in context of the new album, A Chaos of Flowers was huge. And, it soon proved, entirely justified.

Keeping tour costs to a minimum, Aicher, who provided the main support previously, is the sole support this time around. The solo project of their live bassist, Liam Andrews, he’s joined this time around by BIG | BRAVE guitarist Mathieu Ball, and his presence adds further layers to the deep, rumbling sounds emanating from the PA. Playing in near-darkness, Andrews conjures thunder and heavy drones and explosions, while Ball wrings epic howls of feedback. Much of the sound is derived from the use of open contact with the guitar lead when disconnected from the metal-bodied bass he grinds against his immense rig, and there looks to become modular lead switching going on, too. This set feels darker and more structured than a year ago, and captures – and expands on – the sound of the Russell Haswell mastered ‘Lack’ single.

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Aicher

BIG | BRAVE’s ‘quieter’ new record does not translate to a lower volume live, but a balanced, dynamic approach to the sound. From the opening moments of the set, I find myself experiencing the physical sensations of enormous volume and strong lower-end frequencies, powerful vibrations shake my nostrils, my legs, even my scrotum, in a slow build. Frone hereon in, my notes are sparse as I find myself completely immersed in the performance. For an hour, I forget where I am, and the entire room is transfixed: there’s no chat, no-one’s jostling to be here or there, pushing forward, going back and forth to the bar. Time stands still, and so do we, utterly captivated by every moment.

‘The blinding lights facing out,’ I note… ‘A hypnotic, mesmerising, immense wall of shimmering sound. Each strike of the bass yields a shuddering quake. Sparse, subtle percussion’. I recorded very little else, but the rest is etched into my memory with such vividness it’s as is I can watch it all back in my mind’s eye.

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BIG | BRAVE

Watching the neck of Ball’s guitar flexing under force against the amp one minute, and seeing him move, light-footed around the stage, with the deftness of a point-toed ballet dancer is remarkable, and compelling. And the sustain! Without striking a note, with headstocks pressed against cabs, both his guitar and Andrews’ bass hold notes for near eternities. Robin Wattie is an understated yet immensely powerful presence, with instrumental segments far outweighing the vocal elements, but her guitar, too, is immense, and Tasy Hudson is outstanding – slow, measured, precise, powerful.

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BIG | BRAVE

Andrews applies a violin bow to the bass for ‘I Felt a Funeral’, bringing an even weightier, dronier facet to the heavily textured sound. And that sound – and beyond, every molecule of their essence – stems from the contradictory elements of fragility and force, and they pull against one another at every moment. And it’s from the space between that the magical power of BIG | BRAVE emerges.

It’s only at the end, as the rapturous applause fades, that Robin finally speaks. The rest of the band are packing down leads and things around her as she tells us, her voice quiet and choked with emotion, how grateful they are to us for coming, for listening. It’s moving to see an artist so humble, so genuinely touched and amazed to be doing what they’re doing, that they’re playing to full venues who are so engaged. They’re doing steady trade at the merch stall a few minutes later, too, and deservedly so.

I leave, clutching my pink vinyl copy of A Chaos of Flowers after gushing at Mathieu about how they blew me away – again – while he served me, and step into the rainy night completely awed by the intensity of what I had just witnessed.

Glitchers / Eville / The Strand / Averno – The Fulford Arms, York, 20th May 2024

Posted: 22 May 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Just the other night I was talking with someone about how sad it is that so many venues only manage to keep afloat by packing their bookings out with tribute acts. I do appreciate and understand the popularity of tribute acts: people like to hear songs they know while having a drink and a dance, and more often than not, the original artist is either no more, or only plays stadiums every six years with tickets costing over a hundred quid. But the proliferation of tributes, especially to acts still touring, feels so, so wrong: sure, the quality of musicianship required to be a tribute is high, but these are acts who make more off the work of an established act than original artists – and how do the original artists reach an audience when they’re struggling to push their way into view? And as for the acts who are defunct or deceased? Get over it. You missed them – or were lucky and saw them – move on, go and discover some contemporary acts. So, the public gets what the public wants, but for fuck’s sake, if only the public would open its eyes and ears and broaden its horizons beyond all that sale nostalgia shit. There are SO many outstanding artists around right now in every field, every genre – artists who would likely get their own tribute acts in tent, twenty years time, if people even knew that they existed.

Glitchers are a band who really will go to the furthest extreme to make people aware that they exist. While I’ve slated a few busking bands in the past – and rightly so, because the likes of King No-One and the all-time apex of shitness, Glass Caves are the kind of ‘band’ who busk because no-one in their right mind would book them, at least until they’ve built a ‘following’ by their street gigs. Glitchers are a very different proposition. It’s all about intent, about purpose. Glitchers’ busks are an act of protest as much as they’re vehicles of promotion, and they tell us tonight that no number of viral videos of police moving in to suit down their street performances boost their sales. So, to many, police shutdown efforts are amusing evidence of heavy-handed law enforcement (or something to celebrate if you’re a right-wing tosser), but the music gets overlooked. It’s a shame, because right now, we need voices of dissent to be heard while the government tramples and silences the already downtrodden who dare to speak out. And Glitchers don’t just speak out but scream rabidly about issues.

They’ve got a nice – and diverse – bill of bands supporting them tonight, starting with a couple of local bands before current touring support Eville, who are no strangers to the pages of Aural Aggravation, the initial reason I clocked this event and decided I should get down. After all, it’s not every day a band hauls its way up from Brighton to play a support slot at a £5 entry gig in York on a Monday night.

Averno look young even for a university band, but you have to admire their commitment, prioritising playing tonight over revision. I’ve always maintained that the social education and opportunities university provides are worth as much as the degree, and while they’re a bit rough in places, with some fairy ramshackle guitar work throughout, they showcase some decent original songs and a grungy punk energy. ‘Need’ is slow and lugubrious and after a hesitant start builds into a heavy, sludgy beast of a tune, and ‘Make Room’ is a bona fide banger. Unexpectedly, things got more indie and poppy as the set went on, but while delving into more personal territory, their confidence seemed to grow and they were good to watch.

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Averno

The Strand are another uni band, but honed and with a strong style and identity. Their sound is rooted in original 70s punk but with a modern spin and an arty edge, a bit Wire, a bit Adverts, a bit Iggy Pop – although their song about being bored isn’t an Iggy cover. It is, however, a top tune. Front man Evan Greaves bounces around on the spot a lot as they crank out three and four-chord stomps, and I find myself unexpectedly moved by their cover of Nirvana’s ‘Aneurysm’, even though they mangled the start rather – it so happens to be a favourite song of mine and they really give it some. It’s also quite heartening to witness bands playing the songs I was into when I was their age. It’s also impressive to witness their stand-in drummer – an immensely hard-hitter, she powers through the set with finesse, and everything just gels in this confident performance.

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The Strand

Talking of confidence, Eville simply ooze it. It’s clear from the second they take the stage that they’re going to perform like they’re headlining an O2 arena, whether they’re playing to 25 people of 2,500. They’ve got the tunes and the chops for the latter, that’s for sure.

Recent single ‘Monster’ lands as the second track and is the perfect showcase of their sound, blending monumentally weighty riffage, melody, and cross-genre details, with drum ‘b’ bass drums reminiscent of Pitch Shifter paired with a hefty chug of guitar and five-string bass in unison.

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Eville

Ditching the guitar after a few songs, Eva stalks and prowls the stage, and she’s got real presence, strong, assertive. And fuck me, they actually did it: they called for a moshpit and got the entire room going nuts. Blasting is with ‘Leech’, they sustain the intensity, with one fan crashing over the monitors and onto the stage not once but twice. They close with ‘Messy’, and it’s fair to say that they’ve delivered a set that’s all killer here, and there can be no doubt that they’ve won some new fans tonight.

Glitchers bring manic energy and a ton of gaffer tape. And knee pads. Even the knee pads have tape on. This is a band who simply cannot be contained. They don’t just play songs: they’re a full-on spectacle. Few bands go this all-out, and even fewer manage to pull it off: Arrows of Love and Baby Godzilla are the only names which make it to my extremely short list of bands this deranged, this wild, this intense in bringing unbridled mania to songs which explode in howls of feedback. I say songs, but they’re perhaps more accurately described as screaming sonic whirlwinds, industrial-strength punk with a dash of Butthole Surfers mania. This guy is all over the stage and everywhere all at once.

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Glitchers

They blitz their cover of ‘Helter Skelter’, and follow it with new single ‘Grow Up’, a song about toxic masculinity. It would be easy to poke fun at their being ‘right on’, but they’re on point and on topic every time, and they’re on the right side. Their anti-capitalist stance extends to their costs-only ticket pricing policy, and it’s obvious that they mean it, man. They also come across as being decent human beings. They’re a rare breed, it seems. And they’re simply a great band and wholly unforgettable live.

First and foremost, you go to see bands play life to be entertained. Tonight brought entertainment to the MAX. And all for a fiver. Grassroots forever! But also, don’t be surprised to see any of these guys in bigger venues in time.

Pale Blue Eyes / British Birds – The Crescent Community Centre, York, 18th May 2024

Posted: 19 May 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Sheffield (and Totnes) shoegaze quartet Pale Blue Eyes may not have had the kind of meteoric ascent to the stratospheres enjoyed by The Last Dinner Party, but they’ve certainly come a long way in a short time for such a young band. Following a similar trajectory to Hull’s BDRMM, they started out in 2021, as we were emerging from lockdown, as a geographically distanced duo, expanding to a three- and then four-piece, releasing their debut album in 2022. No-one would likely have foreseen that two years on, they’d be opening for Slowdive. And now, here they are, on their own headline tour, playing to substantial crowds in 300+ capacity venues in places they’ve never been before. Small wonder they spend the set beaming at simply being here.

To revisit a favourite topic of late, this is why we need grassroots venues. I first saw BDRMM at the Fulford Ams (capacity c. 125), then a year or so later here at The Crescent. Now they’re headlining at the 1,000-capacity Stylus at Leeds Uni, where I’ve seen Swans and Dinosaur Jr. And on the strength of tonight’s performance, I could imagine Pale Blue Eyes there after the release of their forthcoming second album. But, even if not, it’s clear they can’t quite believe they are where they are at this moment in time.

British Birds are a sound choice of support act. There’s next to no sonic resemblance, and visually, presentationally, they’re worlds apart, too, and it’s appreciated. It gets boring watching bands who are too alike back-to-back, and there’s always the risk the support will steal the headliners’ thunder.

They seem to have had about a dozen different lineups already, and while the music press have seemingly struggled to categorise them, with descriptions ranging from ‘indie’ to ‘psychedelic’ with ‘rock’ and ‘garage’ and ‘pop’ all being lobbed their way, but it’s not prevented them getting airplay on 6Music.

Their female singer / keyboardist, centre stage, first gives us first cowbell, then tambourine during first song. Throughout the set, she seems to spend more time bouncing around with the tambourine than playing the keyboard, and behind her, some dynamic and enthusiastic drumming defines their sound, which is a bit Dandy Warhols at times. I have never seen anyone attack a cowbell with so much force, but it makes them absolutely great to watch, being a band positively radiating energy centre stage. Stage left and right, the guitarist / lead singer and bassist are rather more static, focused on their instruments rather than presentation, but this dynamic works well. The three-way vocals add some really sweet harmonies to some lovely indie pop tunes in a varied and entertaining set, where the penultimate song goes a bit rockabilly. Definitely worth seeing.

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British Birds

Pale Blue Eyes take the sound up a notch, not only in volume but quality. It’s clear, crisp, dense, with good separation and clarity, particularly in the drums and vocals, while they crank out dreamy shoegaze tunes with some rippling keyboards and lots of heavy tremolo. ‘TV Flicker’ landing second in the set provides an early highlight in a set that builds nicely, and it’s clear they’ve put some thought into this.

Early Ride make for an obvious comparison, but there’s more to it than that. The drummer plays motorik rhythms focused around the centre of the kit (incomplete contrast to the rolling, expansive style of British Birds’ drummer), barely bending an elbow, confirming movement largely to the wrists and just holding tight, steady beats.

Laser synths and repetitive riffs edge into space rock territory, locking into mesmeric grooved with Hawkwind vibes. In this combination of shoegaze and psych, I’m reminded if second-wave shoegaze act The Early Years circa 2005.

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Pale Blue Eyes

The audience demographic is split largely into two camps: twenty-somethings – the band’s peers, as you’d likely expect – and middle-agers who came to this stuff when they themselves were in their teen and early twenties. I have to confess to falling into the latter bracket, having discovered Ride and Slowdive via John Peel and Melody Maker, and seeing the former at Wembley at BBC Radio 1’s ‘Great British Music Weekend’ supporting The Cure in January 1991 (which I’d have enjoyed more if I hadn’t been coming down with flu, and the three-mile walk home from the coach drop-off back in Lincoln at 2am, in sub-zero temperatures did me for a week). But, consequently, lots of insanely tall middle aged blokes swarmed to the front, busting moves, lofting their arms, and dancing like they’re swimming with their hands behind their backs (or in their pockets) while simultaneously shooting shaky videos on their phones like wankers. I mean, who’s going to want to watch those?

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Pale Blue Eyes

Most of the between-song dialogue was about how awed the band were to be playing the city and venue for the first time, and judging by their expressions, this was a genuine sentiment. But rather than allow that awe to overcome them, they fed off the exuberance of the substantial crowd and amplified it back. The bassist in particular looked like he was having the time of his life.

Their hour-long set culminates in blistering climactic sustained crescendo. There doesn’t need to be more, and there’s nowhere to go beyond this point for an encore. It’s a satisfying and natural-feeling conclusion to a joyous performance.

Blowing Up the House II – York Vaults, York, 20th April 2024

Posted: 21 April 2024 in Live, Reviews
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2

Christopher Nosnibor

However well you plan, things just happen that are beyond your control. It’s how you deal with these problems that present themselves which counts. In pulling off ‘Blowing Up the House II’ a punk and post-punk half-dayer with half a dozen bands for free / donations, Andy Wiles has performed little short of a miracle. Looking at the poster for the event on the venue wall, with a hand-written A4 sheet stuck in the middle with the stage times, it’s apparent that only three of the acts from the original advertised lineup are actually on the bill. Losing one key act due to diary mismanagement on their part must have been frustrating, but to lose the headliners on the day due to the drummer having broken his arm surely felt like a message from the gods, and not a kind one.

Still, the replacements could not have been better; the addition of JUKU on an already solid bill proved to be both inspired and fortunate, and then for Soma Crew to step into the headline slot, hot on the heels of the release of their new album made for a fitting switch.

Among the lower orders, Saliva Birds had some steely post-punk moments that reminded me of later Red Lorry Yellow Lorry with driving bass and solid drumming, and overall, they were pretty decent, and went down well.

As was the case with Saliva Birds, I had zero expectations of Zero Cost, up from Hull. They play some perfectly passable hard, fast three-chord punk marred somewhat by excessive guitar solos. They were at their best when they went even harder and even faster for some back-to-back explosive 30-second blasts. They only half-cleared the room, and they got some old people dancing very vigorously.

It’s getting to the point where Percy are likely in the top three or four bands I’ve seen the most times, partly because they’ve been playing gigs locally since before the dawn of time, but mostly because they’re worth turning out for. It’s fair to say you know what you’re going to get with Percy, in terms of consistency, and the rate they write new material, there’s always something new in the set – namely half of the forthcoming album, with the title track getting a premier tonight.

Opening their set with the darkly paranoid ‘I Can Hear Orgies’, Colin’s guitar is a metallic clang amidst screening feedback, contrasting with the eerie synths and insistent rhythm section. The loudness of Bassist Andy’s shirt threatens to drown out the sound from his amp, a big low rumble that defines the band’s sound. The drums are loud and crisp and propel some proper stompers.

“Don’t try the wotsits, they taste like earplugs,” Colin quips, in uncharacteristically jovial form, referring to the jar on the bar.

On the evidence of tonight’s outing, the album will be a dark, jagged collection of post punk songs about alcoholic blackouts and sex parties, and even without older favourites like ‘Chunks’ and ‘Will of the People’ in the setlist, there’s plenty of earworms. The waltz-time Thinking of Jacking it in Again’ sits somewhere between The Stranglers and Slates-era Fall.

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Percy

My review of JUKU’s debut performance last Summer was the fourth most-read article at Aural Aggravation for 2023 (behind the review of Swans’ The Beggar, Spear of Destiny at The Crescent, and my interview with Stewart Home). It was a gig that warranted all the superlatives. And they’re every bit as immense and mind-blowingly good as I remember tonight. It’s full-throttle heads-down stompers from start to finish. With big, ball-busting grungy riffs hammered out hard at high volume, there are hints of the Pixies amidst the magnificent sonic blast… but harder and heavier. And the drummer is fucking incredible. His powerhouse percussion drives the entire unit with ferocity and precision. Naomi’s delivery and demeanour contrasts with the lyrics wracked with turmoil, while Dan plays every chord with the entirety of his being, and to top it all, they have some tidy post-punk pop songs buried like depth charges beneath that blistering wall of noise. It’s a perfect package, and they’re an absolute-must-see band.

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JUKU

With a lot of bands and a lot of kit, with really tight turnaround times, it’s a huge achievement that the headliners are only ten minutes late starting, and credit’s due to venue and bands alike for their no-messing approach to plugging in and playing without any soundcheck beyond checking that there is sound. The sound, in the event, is consistently good all night – well-balanced, clear, and achieving an appropriate volume.

Soma Crew are another band I’ve seen more times than I can now count, and they just go from strength to strength. Many acts would have been daunted by following JUKU, bit they’re seasoned performers who play with a certain nonchalance and slip into their own inward-facing bubble where they just play, and magic happens.

Tonight they’re out as a three-piece (the lineup seems to vary week by week, probably as much dependent on availability as by design), and much respect is due for their starting with a quintessential Soma Crew slow-builder, a crawl with crescendos which plugs away at the same droning chord for a solid six or so minutes. On the face of it, their hippy-trippy space rock is neither punk nor post-punk – but what could be more punk than doing precisely this? As their Bandcamp bio asks, ‘Why play 4 chords, why play 3. Why play 2 when 1 will do…?’ This is a manifesto they truly love by, and I’m on board with that: the joy of their music emerges from the hypnotic nature of the droning repetition, a blissful sonic sedative.

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Soma Crew

While the rhythm section throbs away on a tight groove, beautiful chaos cascades from Simon’s amp via an array of pedals that occupies half the stage. It’s seven-minute single ‘Propaganda Now’ that solidifies their taking command of the room by virtue of doing their own thing.

Once again, it’s a trip to a grass-roots venue that shows just how much great music there is to be had a million miles from the corporate air hangars which charge £7 a pint and scalp the performers for 30% of their merch takings. It’s not even about the pipeline for the next big names who’ll be on at Glastonbury in a few years: it’s about real music, music that matters.

Thank / Fashion Tips / Junk It – The Crescent, York, 5th April 2024

Posted: 6 April 2024 in Live, Reviews
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1

Christopher Nosnibor

I’m out on my second consecutive night of gigging and it feels like it used to in 2019, when I used to do this sort of thing all the time. Other things about this remind e of times past, too. It’s a fairly last-minute show, booked after a couple of dates in Scotland fell through, leaving Thank and tour buddies Fashion Tips with gaps in their schedule. Consequently, promotion has been a bit sparse and ticket sales have only been ‘ok’, attracting the kind of turnout that would look good in a 100-200 capacity venue, but perhaps not so good in a 350-capacity space.

Moving the bands to the floor instead of the stage really changed the dynamic, though, and it worked so, so well. Having a 100% solid lineup was what really made all the difference, though, with local guitar and drums duo Junk It being first up.

Having caught them supporting Part Chimp in the same venue back in November 2022 (how was it that long ago?), I’d dug their sound and seen potential. They’re now absolutely delivering on that early promise, and tonight they’re absolutely outstanding. The set beings with a squall of feedback (as does every song, and as often occupies the space between songs) and a mega thick grunge riff. The guitarist sports a beard, long hair, chunky boots and long flowing skirt, and carries it off well, flailing said hair wildly while blasting out hefty power chords.

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Junk It

The drummer and guitarist share vocal duties on the wild ‘Strut My Stuff’, and the former struggles to stay on his stool during the set, leaping and half standing as he thrashes the fuck out of his kit, the nut flying off the cymbal near the end of the set. The chat between songs is awkward, but amusing, and the songs are pure power. They’re a pleasant, affable pair playing hairy, sweaty grunge, the songs often becoming two players screaming ‘aaaghahah’ over hefty guitar and pummelling drums, before bringing unexpected harmonies in the last couple of songs.

Fashion Tips, whose EP I covered a bit back, and was keen to witness live, emerge a lot less poppy and a lot harsher and noisier than anticipated on the basis of the recorded evidence, and the four-piece bring a spiky riot grrrl punk racket played hard and cranked up loud. With heavy synth grind and pumping drum machine and layers of feedback plus extraneous noise, their sound is in the region of Big Black meets Dr Mix meets Bis meets Selfish Cunt.

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Fashion Tips

Singer / synth masher Esme verbalises my thoughts perfectly when she comments on how tonight’s show is reminiscent of The Brudenell circa 2006 – it’s that low-key, lo-fi, direct engagement, band on-the-floor-and in-yer-face making unfashionable noise simply because vibe that does it, and seeing the likes of That Fucking Tank and Gum Takes Tooth playing to small but enthusiastic audiences of oddballs stands as something of a golden age in my mind. You can never recreate the past, at least not purposefully, and to pine in nostalgia is to grasp at emptiness – but sometimes, thing just happen, and this so proved to be one of those things, by accident and by circumstance rather than by design. Fashion Tips were nothing short of blistering with their abrasive antagonism. Fucking hell indeed.

Between Fashion Tips and Thank, Daughters’ You Won’t Get What You Want was blasting over the PA, reminding me of one of the most incredible and intense live shows I’ve ever born witness to.

Steve Myles always looks like he wants to murder the drum kit and he looks seriously fucking menacing as he starts tonight’s set, face low and focused as he thumps hard. To return to the topic of vintage Leeds, my introduction to Thank was in December 2016, supporting Oozing Wound at – where else? – the Brudenell. It got me out of a works Christmas do, and stands out as a belter in the games room, which stood as the second stage then, and Thank, decked in neon running gear stood out as being demented, but also quintessential Leeds alternative. They’re still blazing that trail and have gone from strength to strength, supporting the likes of Big ¦ Brave and maintaining a steady flow of releases – and of course, hardly play any of the songs from those releases tonight, because, well, that’s how they roll. When they erupt it’s a fierce racket. The bassist wrestles noise from a bass with a very long neck. It’s jolting, and it’s hard.

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Thank

The set is strung together by some mental banter, a rambling narrative that expands on a fictitious account of a dialogue between the band and the show’s promoter, Joe Coates, spanning several months. It’s amusing, and grows more surreal and more stupid as the set progresses – which is Thank all over. Amidst the endless slew of new material, there’s a song called ‘Woke Frasier’, the premise of which is…. if Frasier was woke. Of course. ‘Commemorative Coin’, old yet still unreleased, is a big tempo-changing beast of a tune, and encapsulates Thank perfectly – crazed, irreverent, and daft in the way only a northern act can be. Freddie is the perfect frontperson, balancing charisma with clumsiness in a way that’s charming and entertaining, but hits the mark when they go loud, too.

With three bands out of three delivering outstanding, and utterly full-on sets, you couldn’t ask for more on a Friday night – and pints for £3.50 is just a bonus. If you missed it, you missed out.

Vaquelin / Bedsit / Tom Sheldon / Candid Faces –The Fulford Arms, 2nd March 2024

Posted: 3 March 2024 in Live, Reviews
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0

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, and again, and again: grassroots is where it’s at. You need proof? Tonight is exemplary, with four acts for six quid. That’s less than the price of a pint at an arena gig where you’re a quarter of a mile from the stage and might as well watch it on TV, and probably are looking at the screens more than the stage. People are complaining all over the Internet about insane ticket prices and how they’re unaffordable, and yet, at the same time, these massive shows are selling out, so people are clearly stumping up for them in their tens of thousands. Something is very wrong. The acts selling out these arena and stadium shows are, more often than not, heritage acts, or otherwise the current hot thing. But these are in finite supply. What, or who is next? Who’s in the pipeline? You think The Last Dinner Party will be headlining London’s 20,000 capacity O2 Arena, the 21,000 Manchester Arena or Leeds’ First Direct Arena (Capacity 13,781) anytime soon, or in ten, fifteen, twenty yeas time?

I saw Deep Purple supported by Blue Oyster Cult at Leeds First Direct a bit back, and it was one of the most soulless experiences imaginable, and that’s before we get to the embarrassment of the ageing headliners puffing and wheezing their way through a set that dragged out an hour’s worth of songs past an hour and a half with solos to pad things out. I sat, seeing the bands creaking around like ants on a stage bigger than a five-a-side pitch and mostly watched the LCD screens. It was so sterile, so lacking in buzz. It reminded me why I enjoy small gigs so much.

I’ve arrived a few minutes into the first band’s set, and find myself walking into the room and landing four rows from the front, but still with a decent view, and instantly, I know I’m there, and I’m right in it. A few songs later, I get a nudge and a mate I didn’t know was coming, and who I’ve not seen in a while, and he’s handing me a pint. During the night I get to speak to a few people I’ve never met in person having only had virtual contact via Facebook in the past.

This simply doesn’t happen at huge gigs, where you turn up with mates, get separated between the bar and the bogs and you can’t see the bands for phone screens and can’t hear them for people talking. That doesn’t happen so much when you hear bands at proper volume.

Leading tonight’s Hull invasion are Candid Faces, a tight and energetic female-fronted five-piece with a penchant for angular punk/post punk and occasionally leaning into indie, sort of Bizarro-era Wedding present comes to mind. They’re four guys in jeans and t-shirts (and a vest) plus a gothy front woman, and she’s nonchalant while they’re bouncing around like peas on a drum, the calm in the eye of a sonic storm. ‘Telephonophibia’, the title track from their EP, is a bit Bondie, and they draw the set to a close with a brooding slow-burner that has epic simply oozing from every bar. They’re a class act and tight as anything.

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Candid Faces

Tom Sheldon brings another vest to the state. The set’s a mish-mash of funk and rock and grunge and….I’m fumbling as I’m making notes, and land on something kinda like Lenny Kravits meets Soundgarden. You can make of that what you will. He’s got a good voice, and may be a solo artist in name, but this is a power trio and I’m reminded of Milk in parts near the start, but the set swiftly depends into pretty mediocre 70s blues rock and torch-waving tedium. When they kick it up a notch, they sound like Rival Sons. Again, make of that that you will.

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Tom Sheldon

Bedsit are the reason I’m here. Having given some solid thumbs-ups to their releases and missed their last appearance here in York, I was keen to witness the force of their live show. Bloody hell. Arriving in a monster wall of feedback, Bedsit are straight into frenetic hardcore territory. A minute in, the bassist is in the audience, beer is being slopped, and he’s a one-man mosh pit. ‘Click Track’ is melodic, before, immediately after, ‘Eloquent’ goes In Utero Nirvana. Single cut ‘F.I.D.O.’ is a standout in a set of standouts. They make a serious racket, but it’s not without some thought, and what’s more, they showcase a remarkable stylistic range, while at the same time remaining coherent throughout the set. I wonder if the mic’d-up floor snare will take off as a thing. With just seven minutes left, they elect to close with the seven-minute slow-building shoegaze of ‘Happy’. Baritone vocal and crawling indie starts early Pulp and winds up full-on paint-stripping My Bloody Valentine wall of noise. You have to wonder how long these guys will be playing support slots, or venues of this size. I’m reminded of the fact that in recent years, I’ve seen Benefits and – another Hull act – BDRMM – play in this very venue, since when both acts have exploded. And again, I’m reminded that this is precisely why we need these venues, these gigs. I have so many friends recall the time they saw bands like Franz Ferdinand, Editors, playing 150-capacity venues less than a year before they broke.

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Bedsit

Vaquelin aren’t an instant hit in the image stakes: the guitarist’s Def Lep T? Hmm. There’s no questioning their musical competence, or songwriting ability, or their ability to whip up some movement in the audience. But… They feel a bit middling, a point accentuated by their following Bedsit. Or perhaps that’s the problem in its entirety. They acknowledge feeling nervous following such a killer act, and their concerns are justified. There’s some dark grit to the vocal and the guitars are hefty, and there is a lot to like. The set featured some clear highlights, with some atmosphere and proper dynamics and bold choruses, with detailed guitar work underpinned by a solid rhythm section, dominated by a thick bass tone. The nerdy-looking Def Lep fan guitarist can play and posture, legs akimbo, and presents as an unlikely rock start in the making. They got better as set progressed, and the moshpit grew in parallel. On any other night, they’d have been the band of the night, but after Bedsit, there are very few acts who would have really wowed.

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Vaquelin

The calibre of acts treading the boards tonight was outstanding, even if one was very much not to my taste. The artists people pay £60 to see are not superior – just better known.

I leave feeling empowered, enthused, enlivened, and with my ears ringing, buzzing at having seen bands playing their hardest, right in my face. This… this is everything.

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