Posts Tagged ‘Groak’

Christopher Nosnibor

CHUNK is a rehearsal space in Leeds which also puts on live shows. They’re the very epitome of DIY: it’s a couple of damp, crumbly rooms on an industrial estate some 40 minutes’ walk from the train station. They don’t have a license or a bar, so their gigs are BYOB, and they have a solid manifesto that stipulates ‘no bigots’. Divey as it may be, it’s a safe and accommodating space that’s crated its own scene, embracing the weird, the wild, the noisy, a hub for disparate outsiders. And I’ve seen a fair few decent gigs there, a fair few of which I’ve written about here, and in the company of decent people. Hell, I’ve even performed there: CHUNK facilitated my meeting with Paul, aka Foldhead, an event which would mark the arrival of a new musical entity in the form of …(something) ruined.

Spaces like this are rare these days. Everyone’s in it for the money, and no-one else has any. And so you have to love CHUNK for its commitment and integrity.

Sadly, commitment and integrity don’t pay bills, and this release is specifically pitched as a fundraiser for vital repairs. Less sadly, it’s a showcase of the acts who’ve emerged around CHUNK, and a celebration of the thriving underground scene in Leeds, which has recamped to CHUNK and Wharf Chambers now the Brudenell – ever-awesome as it is – has stepped up several notches from the student hangout it was a decade ago to a three-room venue of international standing. CHUNK have also expanded to a label branch – Voice of Chunk – to disseminate the works of the CHUNK community, and this release, on that label, captures the spirt of the scene perfectly.

This compilation reflects both the sense of community and the diversity of the scene centred around this space, and a fair few of the acts featured have been covered here at Aural Aggro.

The first track is a rough ‘n’ ready demo of a song Beige Place – whose debut live show I witnessed in this very venue – have been playing on their recent dates supporting Shellac. Yes, read and digest. Wonky, cronky, oddball, shouty no-image math-rock misfits from Leeds support Shellac on UK tour. And inexplicably divide Shellac fans. Kudos. This doesn’t actually need any more work, beyond perhaps mastering by Bob Weston. Its raw, ragged discomfort is everything it should be.

Cattle – who I’m elated to be featured on a bill alongside in February – bring a crashing swell of nihilistic nose with ‘Found in a Tract of Land’, and Cattle’s drummer Steve Myles also features on the contribution from Groak, who tossed ‘Lemnian Earth’ into the mix because they’re winding down and elected to support the venue instead of holding out hope of a new EP.

Elsewhere, M-G Dysfunction introduce an electronic element to the mix. Black Antlers impressed me when I caught their debut performance at CHUNK (where else?) in June, and the appearance of ‘Insomnia’ here marks their debut release, and showcases some brooding, shuddering electropop that comes on like a goth Goldfrapp or Zola Jesus without the operatics.

I’ve had the pleasure of bringing Territorial Gobbing to York, and as much of that pleasure was derived from observing the bewildered expression of many of the audience members. ‘Whose Big in the Karaoke Underground?’ is a disorientating mess of sounds, incongruous fragments, bleeps and bloops randomly spliced together, and Thank’s ‘Good Boy’ is noisy another highlight, although it sounds like it was recorded from the room next door. Meanwhile, Open’s ‘The Love Machine’ is an overloading, pounding psych racket, and Groak’s curtain closing ‘Lemnian Earth’ is s snarling, blackened assault that’s as raw as roadkill.

Having picked out some highlights, it’s worth pointing out that there isn’t really a duff or dull moment among the fourteen tracks here, and while not every act may be to everyone’s taste, that’s something to celebrate, being indicative of a scene that promotes diversity and where the most disparate acts perform side by side and support one another. Above all, this compilation shows – once again – how the Leeds alternative scene is thriving and continually producing new and exciting music by artists who dare to be different.

CHUNK is a rehearsal space in Leeds which also puts on live shows. They’re the very epitome of DIY: it’s a couple of damp, crumbly rooms on an industrial estate some 40 minutes’ walk from the train station. They don’t have a license or a bar, so their gigs are BYOB, and they have a solid manifesto that stipulates ‘no bigots’. Divey as it may be, it’s a safe and accommodating space that’s crated its own scene, embracing the weird, the wild, the noisy, a hub for disparate outsiders. And I’ve seen a fair few decent gigs there, a fair few of which I’ve written about here, and in the company of decent people. Hell, I’ve even performed there: CHUNK facilitated my meeting with Paul, aka Foldhead, an event which would mark the arrival of a new musical entity in the form of …(something) ruined.

Spaces like this are rare these days. Everyone’s in it for the money, and no-one else has any. And so you have to love CHUNK for its commitment and integrity.

Sadly, commitment and integrity don’t pay bills, and this release is specifically pitched as a fundraiser for vital repairs. Less sadly, it’s a showcase of the acts who’ve emerged around CHUNK, and a celebration of the thriving underground scene in Leeds, which has recamped to CHUNK and Wharf Chambers now the Brudenell – ever-awesome as it is – has stepped up several notches from the student hangout it was a decade ago to a three-room venue of international standing. CHUNK have also expanded to a label branch – Voice of Chunk – to disseminate the works of the CHUNK community, and this release, on that label, captures the spirt of the scene perfectly.

This compilation reflects both the sense of community and the diversity of the scene centred around this space, and a fair few of the acts featured have been covered here at Aural Aggro.

The first track is a rough ‘n’ ready demo of a song Beige Place – whose debut live show I witnessed in this very venue – have been playing on their recent dates supporting Shellac. Yes, read and digest. Wonky, cronky, oddball, shouty no-image math-rock misfits from Leeds support Shellac on UK tour. And inexplicably divide Shellac fans. Kudos. This doesn’t actually need any more work, beyond perhaps mastering by Bob Weston. Its raw, ragged discomfort is everything it should be.

Cattle – who I’m elated to be featured on a bill alongside in February – bring a crashing swell of nihilistic nose with ‘Found in a Tract of Land’, and Cattle’s drummer Steve Myles also features on the contribution from Groak, who tossed ‘Lemnian Earth’ into the mix because they’re winding down and elected to support the venue instead of holding out hope of a new EP.

Elsewhere, M-G Dysfunction introduce an electronic element to the mix. Black Antlers impressed me when I caught their debut performance at CHUNK (where else?) in June, and the appearance of ‘Insomnia’ here marks their debut release, and showcases some brooding, shuddering electropop that comes on like a goth Goldfrapp or Zola Jesus without the operatics.

I’ve had the pleasure of bringing Territorial Gobbing to York, and as much of that pleasure was derived from observing the bewildered expression of many of the audience members. ‘Whose Big in the Karaoke Underground?’ is a disorientating mess of sounds, incongruous fragments, bleeps and bloops randomly spliced together, and Thank’s ‘Good Boy’ is noisy another highlight, although it sounds like it was recorded from the room next door. Meanwhile, Open’s ‘The Love Machine’ is an overloading, pounding psych racket, and Groak’s curtain closing ‘Lemnian Earth’ is s snarling, blackened assault that’s as raw as roadkill.

Having picked out some highlights, it’s worth pointing out that there isn’t really a duff or dull moment among the fourteen tracks here, and while not every act may be to everyone’s taste, that’s something to celebrate, being indicative of a scene that promotes diversity and where the most disparate acts perform side by side and support one another. Above all, this compilation shows – once again – how the Leeds alternative scene is thriving and continually producing new and exciting music by artists who dare to be different. We need this space! Please support it.

AA

Sounds of CHUNK

Christopher Nosnibor

For those who aren’t fans of extreme music, it’s often hard to see the appeal. ‘How can you listen to that, let alone enjoy it?’ is a common line of questioning. Often, the response can be boiled down to a single word: catharsis.

The one thing that always strikes me about events like these is just how friendly the atmosphere is. The fans are friendly and many, like me, seem shy and reserved – until they completely go mental in the moshpit. And it’s in this context that extreme music makes perfect sense. I may be nursing bruised ribs today after my quest for photos landed me in the line of danger but never once did I feel in any way threatened: it’s all freaks, outcasts and oddballs together in a safe environment.

What had initially been booked as a standard date on the UK leg of Full of Hell’s tour metamorphasised into an eleven-band extravaganza when circumstances dictated a change of promoter. And there wasn’t a weak act on the bill, and the first couple, Cheap Surgery and Hoof Glove both stood at the punkier end of the musical spectrum than the screaming metal end. It’s not so much that it was welcome to be eased in gently as a positive thing to be treated to some musical range: it’s not as if either was light or poppy, with Cheap Surgery evoking the spirit of bands like Penetration. Hoof Glove, meanwhile, are a band of two halves with a metal rhythm section onstage and an electronic noise duo at a table in front of it. Processed-to-fuck female vocals add a different shade of intensity to a grainy noise reminiscent in places of the abrasive angst of Xmal Deutchschland.

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Cheap Surgery                                               Hoof Glove

A close-cropped screamer in a Crass T-shirt leads the full-throttle attack of Hex, and it was midway through their confrontational, fiery set that the slam-dancing commenced, hinting at the shape of things to come.

Led by the Throat may look like four ordinary guys, but they’re the first band to bring the full-on snarling metal assault to proceedings, and they bring it from the first bar of their tight, powerful set. As he paces the stage, the singer emanates a malevolent energy that’s as powerful as his patterned shirt is tasteless.

I can’t remember when or where I last saw Groak, but I remember them being good, and this evening’s performance confirms my memory is correct. Singer / guitarist Ben Southern is wearing a Rudimentary Peni t-shirt and the band’s sludgy, dirgy churn is propelled – slowly – by Steve Myles’ crushing percussion (how many bands is this guy in?). This is music dredged from the pits of the lower regions of hell, and pretty much as intense as it gets. Or so you’d think. But it’s only 6:30 in the evening by the time they leave the stage, and we’re not even halfway through the lineup.

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Groak

Masters of Powerviolence Lugubrious Children, who released a spit EP with Groak last year are up next, and they’re punishing too. The trio bring the power and the pace, and the result is carnage.

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Lugubrious Children

It only gets better, and more intense, with Gets Worse. Very much a beards and long shorts band, they’re bristling additional strings, with a massively overdriven five-string bass bringing the low-end that grinds below a pair of seven-string guitars. And all of those stings are downtuned and sludged to the max. A single power chord sustains for a full minute before the juggernaut chug slams in. This is a full-on, balls-out racket that draws together the slow trudge of Godflesh and the tearing frenzy of Napalm Death to devastating effect.

Famine are one of those bands who just get better with every outing. Having seen them grow from a snotty two-piece into a thunderous, ferocious gut-ripping threesome who are tighter and more ferocious with every show. My notes from their set are sparse and only semi-legible, but in front of a home crowd, they’re assured and received the violently rapturous reception they deserved.

I’d been recommended Unyielding Love by a friend whose opinion I very much respect, and they didn’t disappoint, taking the snarling gnarliness to a whole other level. The seven-string guitar and five-string bass congeal into a thick glutinous sonic slime with optimum low-end. It’s driven by rapid-fire drumming that’s hard enough to crack any skull, and overlaid with brain-shredding electronic noise. Their relentlessly savage set can be perhaps defined as the sound of a goat’s skull being dragged underfoot about the stage echoing amidst a heavy organ drone, before processed reverby vocals erupt into a howling vortex of noise. And tat all actually happened, in real life.

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Unyielding Love

I’ve no idea who I saw performing a ‘secret set’ in the Meatlocker (the venue’s second stage, still draped with original plastic curtains because it was absolutely fucking heaving and I’d had a few beers by this point but they were intense and loud and brutal. But Full of Hell… Fucking hell. I’d run into Dylan Walker shortly before the set and was struck by just what an affable guy he was. On stage, of course, it’s another story: blasting ear-bleeding electronics and brutal vocals with a violent energy amidst a raging tempest of the harshest grindcore around, live shows don’t come more intensely visceral than this. How much of the set was lifted from the latest long-player, Trumpeting Ecstasy, I couldn’t say: I was too busy avoiding flailing feet and flying bodies, and clearly, the pain in my left side tells me I failed somewhere during the mayhem. But this…. THIS is catharsis.

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Full of Hell

I stopped to have my photo taken with some random strangers on my way out: they liked my hat. I may have drunk too much beer, but in the main, I was hitting the cool night air elated and exhilarated, and on a different plane from the one I had arrived on.

Ritual Festival, which aims to be bring the best in doom and death metal to Leeds will return on 8th April 2017. Following the success of this year’s festival which boasted the likes of 40 Watt Sun, The Body, Conan, Venom Prison and Full of Hell, Ritual have announced that Norweigan black metal pioneer Ihsahn will headline next year.

Alongside Ihsahn, the lineup so far is looking pretty strong to say the least, and includes Misery Index, The Afternoon Gentlemen, Crepitation, Corrupt Moral Altar, Conjurer, Serpent Venom and Groak.

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The first 100 early bird tickets are on sale now priced at just £25 rising to £30 from here: http://ritualfestival.bigcartel.com/

Alongside two rooms of live music, the festival will also feature art exhibitions, a wealth of merchandise, as well as local food vendors. 

More information about the festival and venue can be obtained from the following links:

www.ritualfest.co.uk/

www.facebook.com/RitualFestivalUK

www.canalmills.com/