With Stranded on the Path, The Clouded Lights showcase a sound that’s very much rooted in the distinctly post-millennium revisioning of the post-punk sound, in the vein of early Interpol, Editors, et al, as well as contemporaries both regional (The Exhibition, for example) and international (New York’s New Politicians come to mind). So, there’s a real precedent, and a sense that The Clouded Lights are part of an expansive zeitgeist. Increasingly, it feels like that zeitgeist exists under the shadow of the apocalypse: the fear of the mushroom which loomed large over the 1980s is in many ways reborn in the 2010s (which still don’t sound like a real decade, but what can you do?) It’s an observation I’ve made previously, but the point is worth restating: the parallels between the early 1980s and the present are astounding – and depressing – and it’s small wonder that so much contemporary music echoes the sound of 30-odd years ago.
One of the key elements in the bands of the original new wave – Joy Division in particular, but listen to any of the darker, gothier bands, like Danse Society, Skeletal Family and you’ll find the same stylistic features – is strong, dominant drumming. The Clouded Lights have nailed the drumming, with a percussion style that’s urgent, tense, and, importantly, tight. The EP’s first track, ‘Borrowed Hearts’, is arguably the strongest and an obvious choice of lead, which balances bounce and bleakness, and is propelled by a busy, bluster-filled bassline that brings energy.
I’m a sucker for songs driven by rolling tom-led drumming, and the slower ‘Barter With the World’ ticks the box nicely. Chiming guitars and a vocal melody which casts melancholy shades define the song, and across the EP’s four tracks, there are some strong harmonies.
While shaded with heavy hints of darkness and defined by spindly, fractal guitars, Stranded on the Path is by no means a wholly bleak, pessimistic release, and the strong choruses and a leanings toward more uptempo material means it’s a release that’s inspiring, rather than a soundtrack to hang yourself to. It’s also a strong set, which suggests that, with live dates booked for the new year, The Clouded Lights could well be ones to watch in 2017.
“I can’t stay for more than a couple, I’ve got to go and review Oozing Wound” has to be by far the best reason I’ve been able to give for ducking out of an office Christmas party early. And it was entirely genuine. Unusually, I found myself enjoying the event and, unexpectedly, would have been happy to have stayed longer. Still, I’m well aware how messy these things can get, and am a strong believer in the benefits of quitting while you’re ahead. What’s more, I’ve seen enough bands to know that it’s always better to leave them wanting more. This is an adage Oozing Wound seemingly exist by, judging by their 35-minute, encore-free headline set.
Milling about in the Brudenell Social Club bar for the third time in eight days and surveying the posters on the walls, I wonder if I might not be better off just moving in at the place. It’s a pretty diverse bunch in tonight, which is to be expected given the divergent styles of the lineup, not to mention the fact The Boxer Rebellion are playing in the main room next door.
So, about the lineup: Thank wander on, decked in (almost completely) co-ordinated dayglo shorts, T-shirts and baseball caps and kick out a discordant noise whereby serrated, chanking guitars meld with bubbly, wibbly synths. ‘Petrolhead’, with its refrain of ‘honk if your horny’, set against a gut-churningly cacophonous dirge of a sonic backdrop is something of a highlight. As a band, they’re magnificently awkward and contradictory – as a ‘supergroup’ collaboration between members of various bands, including Irk and Super Luxury, of course they are (Irk’s front man Jack Gordon drums, while Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe, bassist with Beige Palace providing off-kilter vocals and uncomfortable, dry between-song banter). It works well, and as the set progresses they become increasingly cohesive. By the end, I’m sold.
Thank
Context counts, and while Cowtown are tight and sound and what they do, this didn’t feel like the right show for them to be the main support. Their brand of grungy indie with keen 80s pop-rock leanings (at one point they lift the ‘oo-wey-oh’ hook from ‘Walk Like An Egyptian’) is about concise, melody-driven songs delivered with precision an energy. Contrast is cool, but as a preface to a mega dose of frenetic US thrash, they seemed like an ill fit rather than a complimentary stylistic juxtaposition.
Cowtown
Oozing Wound hit the stage in a tidal wave of snarling, chugging, glorious guitar noise. Noisey have described them as ‘the Melvins of thrash… or the Mudhoney of metal,” and it’s fair comment. New Yorker have said the band are ‘happy to be a cheap imitation of Metallica and Slayer’, but that’s frankly bollocks and I’d personally take Oozing Wound any day over the bloated grunt of any of ‘the big three.’ The fact is that Oozing Would play hard and fast, demonstrating an appropriate level of brutality, while at the same time, offering a degree of accessibility.
Oozing Wound
The Chicago trio possess immense power. It may be a smaller audience than at The Key Club last year, but this doesn’t seem to bother them one bit as they pour their all into the set. The bassist scours his fretboard and wrings maximum nose from his instrument and vast FX rack, while Zack crunches out some dense chug on a Flying V. Going back to the pedals, Kevin, who’s a hair-tossing powerhouse, runs his bass through around 20 pedals in contrast to Zack’s two (one of which is discarded a few songs in), and this gives some indication of the balance of power and the source of the band’s immense sound. Strumming the fretboard with intense fury, the bass sounds like three basses and two guitars, and really drives the sound. The drumming’s not too shabby, either. Really: Casey works seriously hard, and his timing is faultless.
Oozing Wound
When they do slow things down a bit, they deliver an immense wall of sludge. When they pick up the pace again, the strangles, shrieking vocals ratchet up the intensity in a tumult of frenzied classic thrash noise. What sets Oozing Wound apart are intelligent structures and precise, well-placed breakdowns. That, and the fact they’re phenomenally tight: there’s no slack during the songs, and no let-up throughout the set. There’s no conversation, either, just-heads-down focus on delivering all-out power.
After agreeing to play one more song at the end of the set – drummer Casey is drenched in sweat and looks like he’s run a marathon – they ignore calls for an encore. It’s a fair call. Intensity beats duration, and Oozing Wound bring it and then some.
Some years ago, Andrew Eldritch mooted the proposal that if Donald Trump became president there would be another Sisters of Mercy album. He probably thought it was a safe bet – surely we all did – and if anything, considered it as a joke rather than a serious threat. But that was before Brexit and the coin-flip which saw the mad world take a turn for the madder, and in an instant, The Day Today ceased to be satire and became reality. It’s a reality many of us are still struggling to come to terms with.
Still, the Trump’s election to presidency has afforded Eldritch a fair amount of press exposure, not least of all courtesy of Louder than War, which coincided perfectly with a Sisters UK tour. It’s all coming together: Manchester legend John Robb is the man behind LTW, and also the firebrand frontman of The Membranes, and also Goldblade, who supported The Sisters a while back (and were cracking at the Leeds show). And then there are the DJs: none other than Utah Saints. The last time I caught the Saints, it was at the Leeds Town & Country (now the O2), playing a benefit gig for Shelter, with The Wedding Present, Cud, The Mission, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, La Costa Rasa, and others, on the bill, and a certain Andrew Eldritch joining them to perform ‘New Gold Dream’ and ‘Gimme Shelter’ (badly). Tonight, they’re spinning some awesome cuts, many of a 90s vintage but also some cracking mash-ups and mixes.
Like that show back in ’93, tonight isn’t really about The Sisters of Mercy, or their premier covers band, Near Meth Experience who are the headliners on this occasion. This is a fundraiser for March Violet and longstanding Sisters tour crew member Si Denbigh (aka Nurse to the Doktor), who recently suffered a life-changing stroke and facing an immense bill for reconfiguring his home to accommodate his needs. As a member of the Violets, The Batfish Boys, and a general stalwart of the Leeds scene for over 30 years, it’s unsurprising people are keen to chip in, and as a fan of both the Violets and the Sisters since around 1987, I include myself among them.
But this is still a gig, albeit one with a raffle and suggested donation of at least a tenner for entry, and I’m here as a punter rather than press. The atmosphere is brilliant: strangers talk about previous Sisters shows and the like, and I chat with a guy who’s travelled from Brighton for this, and it transpires he first saw the Sisters play live at the same Wembley Arena show I attended in 1990, as well as the tenth anniversary show at Leeds University Refectory a year later – and he’s wearing the T-shirt to prove it (mine’s in a drawer at home). It feels more like a party, a gathering, than anything else. And so, the music is in many respects secondary, but seeing acts of this stature in such a setting – not only intimate, but the best venue anywhere ever – is a big deal.
Chris Catalyst entertains, and makes for a good opener: in fact, he’s good fun, kicking out a mix of original songs and covers, with a singalong rendition of A-Ha’s ‘Take On Me’ proving to be something of a highlight.
The Membranes are the fucking Membranes, and frankly, no-one can match them for sheer power. John Robb has all the (dark) energy in the world, and The Membranes power through a blistering set culled primarily from Dark Energy, with one backwards nod to their initial 70s iteration. Their power is immense and Robb is eternally ferocious in his bass-brandishing antics as he charges from one end of the stage to the other and leaps, pouring sweat, like he’s hardwired into the mains. He wears crazy shoes. I’ve no idea about the bird heads.
The Membranes
Near Meth Experience recreate the high drama and atmosphere of a Sisters of Mercy show to absolute perfection. Credit has to go to both band and venue for the fact that a band who frequently play festivals and immense venues on the mainland and in South America, and who have just run a tour packing out venues of 1,500 to 2,000 capacity can create the same sound and visuals in a 400-capacity space. The buzz is intense: there’s no barrier and the stage is just the right height for sitting your pint on while observing, and getting down.
The set – shaved to a precise hour – is immaculate in every way. Von doesn’t engage in any chat: in fact, he doesn’t speak and looks pretty uncomfortable, lurking as far back as its possible on such a small stage for much of the set. But the fact he’s an introvert who happens to be in the contradictory – and uncomfortable – role of fronting a rock band is justification enough, and being in such close proximity to a fervent crowd must only make it harder. Even with all the smoke, there’s not really anywhere to hide at a show like this. Besides, it’s all an integral part of the band’s mystique / appeal. Ben Christo slings his axe with wild abandon as they crank out classics old and less old (‘Crash and Burn’ was an instant classic when it first appeared in the set in 2000, and I never tire of hearing it, and ‘Arms’ is similarly ace now it’s bedded in).
They open with ‘More’. ‘Amphetamine Logic’ is delivered with a bolt of adrenaline, and the inclusion of their cover of Red Lorry Yellow Lorry’s ‘Gift That Shines’ alongside ‘Giving Ground’ and the inevitable ‘Alice’ makes for a satisfying set-list. Winding up with an encore comprising ‘Vision Thing’, ‘Lucretia’, ‘Temple of Love’ and ‘This Corrosion’, it’s a perfectly formed show. But of course, it’s more than that: this is a perfectly formed show in a tiny venue, in relative terms, it’s a big deal. For me, it’s my all-time favourite band in my all-tie favourite venue. It really doesn’t get better than this.
Happy Happy Birthday To Me Records – 18th November 2016
Christopher Nosnibor
I’ve been a fan of The Wedding Present for a long time. That said, I did rather lose track of their output at some point. It happens. For some reason, I felt that they’d somehow become mired in a template-based middle-ground. Nevertheless, one of the things I always admired about the band was their ability to constantly reinvent themselves while still sounding like The Wedding Present. Going, Going… released in Europe in September and now receiving a US release, is a perfect exemplar of the way in which they achieve this: it’s an immense 20-track double album, full of overtly Wedding Present songs and songs that explore a host of different forms.
The dense guitar trudge which drives the post-rock instrumental of ‘Kittery’, the opening track on Going, Going… does not sound like The Wedding Present to my ears. But it is compelling. ‘Greenland’ features a female radio voice reading out co-ordinates over a thundering drum beat and very little else. It sounds more like Shellac than The Wedding Present. And yet, as a slow-building rumble of noise builds in the background before the track fades out slowly without anything actually happening, it shouldn’t come as a surprise: The Wedding Present called in Steve Albini to rework breakthrough single ‘Brassneck’ from their 1989 album Bizarro¸ and he ‘recorded’ one of their biggest albums, Seamonsters in 1991. The Wedding Present also covered Pavement long before Pavement were cool – before anyone had even heard of them, in fact.
In some respects, given David Gedge’s longstanding interest in the obscure and his impressively long career spent cultivating a distinctive sound has paved the way for tis radical departure. Because, while words like ‘workmanlike’ and ‘jangling’ have long been associated with the band, they’ve always been more than their critical reception, and have long gone out of their way to do something outlandish or perverse – like a single a month for a year. Put another way, The Wedding Present have always espoused the indie aesthetic on the absolute sense, in that they’ve always indulged their contrary side because, well, simply, they can.
With a haunting, wordless, female vocal and soaring post-rock guitar sound, ‘Marblehead’ is a far cry from the twangy, three-chord thrashabouts that are the band’s trademark, and the string-soaked, piano-led chamber orchestra piece that is ‘Sprague’ finds Gedge lead his crew – not to mention their fans – further from familiar territory.
It’s not until the fifth track, ‘Two Bridges’ that we get a song that showcases Gedge’s familiar gruff northern tones amidst a choppy guitar attack. It’s a thick, rough and ready and in many ways primitive indie tune that could only come from one band, even when it lumbers off on an extended riffy workout after a couple of minutes. What we can take from this is that while The Wedding Present can sound like pretty much anything, no-one else can make songs that sound like The Wedding Present. There are plenty of thumping guitar tunes – more carved from the hefty riff-driven template of Seamonsters and beyond than their jangly indie early years – and they’re decent tunes. ‘Bear’ is one of several classic examples of the Pixies-like grungers which exploit the quiet/loud dynamic. Lumbering riffs about, driving the lurching alt-pop of ‘Fifty-six’ and the all-out stomp of ‘Emporia’, which is pretty heavy and fires up a roaring guitar racket while retaining a keen sense of melody.
‘Secretary’ brings some jangle, but also a fuckload of noise all bound up with a post-punk sensibility and a jarring angularity that’s unexpectedly exhilarating, while ‘Bells’ is a standout by virtue of simply being a great song with a cracking melodic hook.
Who would have thought that some 30 years into their career, The Wedding Present of all bands, would produce something as ambitious and as impressive as this? If anything, rather than being an exercise in indulgence for the band and a drag for the listener, Going, Going… is as strong as anything The Wedding Present have ever released, and the longer format finds Gedge really going all-out to try new sounds and shapes. It’s also an album which reveals a band really concentrating on tight and varied songwriting, and when paired with a focus on tone and dynamics it makes for an unexpectedly great record.
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.
It makes sense for a band renowned for their killer live shows to release a live album, but it takes a band with a certain amount of guts to make that album a project that’s part of a festival’s proceedings, and to go for the live album by way of their third full-length. Post War Glamour Girls have got guts, alright, and Live at St Austin’s was recorded as the ‘watch a band record a live album’ Sunday night session at the end of this year’s Long Division festival in Wakefield.
They open with a very curious hybrid of ‘Sestra’ and ‘Brat’, which respectively stood as bookends to their debut, Pink Fur. In parts completely unrecognisable in relation to either of the originals, it’s a more sedate and altogether less fiery reworking. James Smith shows remarkable restraint, his rowdy raving replaced by a crooning style, which sits alongside some soulful harmonies, the likes of which haven’t been heard from the band previously. Structurally, it’s also completely different… and comes to an abrupt and ungainly halt that sounds like the tape being chewed. Well, it is live, after all. Anything can happen and you only get one take.
‘That’s probably it for music,’ James quips. ‘I’ll now be doing my stand-up set’. Granted, there’s a lot more music and no stand-up, but you wouldn’t put anything past this band. So premiering a new track from their upcoming third album by way of a second track is pretty much par for the course. There’s something of an early- to mid-eighties guitar pop feel to ‘Polyanna Cowgirl’ (commercial pop was seemingly a fair few shades darker then), and it boasts a bold and hooky chorus.
If making their first album a greatest hits / best of set seems like the obvious a to go, you know that’s precisely what you’re not going to get, and second album Feeling Strange (released less than six months before this performance) is largely shunted to one side in favour of their debut, new material, and a handful of covers – which, naturally, are off the beaten track and are drawn in from far out on the left-field (and their version of Elvis Costello’s ‘Shipbuilding’ is as moving as it is unexpected… not that it should be expected for a band who’ve previously covered Robert Palmer).
The vinyl, which presents an abridged version of the occasion to present a different aspect of the set-list (in an alternative sequence) omits the spiky, goth-tinged rendition of ‘Stolen Flowers Rust’ and two of the tracks culled from their second album, presumably on account of space. ‘Cannonball Villages’ (not on the vinyl) is one of the standouts of Feeling Strange and builds an immense, dark, brooding twisting epic journey. As Smith growls the refrain ‘I knew the moment I laid my eyes on you / that I would do anything to get my hands on you,’ it sounds as much like a threat as an expression of desire. Closer ‘Count Your Blessings’ – a bleak choice of a set-ender, if the truth be told – is also omitted from the vinyl, and the fact that such a great rendition can be relegated to the download is testament to the depth of their material – and of course, their unswerving perversity in selecting unreleased tracks and covers over others. Single cuts like ‘Jazz Funerals’, ‘Southpaw Stance’ and ‘Felonius Punk’ don’t get a look in
The slowed-down version of ‘Black Dolphin’ and the dreamy version of ‘Gustave’, on which Alice takes lead vocal duties, offer very different perspectives on established songs, and the piano motif which runs through the Curesque take on ‘Red Terror’, with its crazy reverb action, again places the familiar in an unfamiliar context. The addition of organ and keys to a number of tracks also adds a new dimension to the sound.
Live at St Austin’s works precisely because of its imperfections and its – superficially, at least – perverse set-list. As a live album, it captures the immediacy of a band who thrive on live performances, and at the same time, are all about taking risks and showcasing new material. Go to a PWGG gig and you’ll see a band testing themselves and the audience with new material. This makes the inclusion of debut single ‘Spitting Pearls’ all the more surprising and welcome. They’ve probably played it about twice since its release: it’s a personal favourite, and they more than do it justice here, Smith finally unleashing his full-throated Tom Waits holler. It’s fucking brilliant, and met, briefly, with a stunned silence.
Live at St Austin’s is an honest live album: it’s not that the sound is rough, because it isn’t: but in places, the instruments aren’t perfectly balanced and there are some dud notes and off-key harmonies. And that’s precisely why it’s so good: it sounds like you could actually be there, it’s not dressed up and overdubbed and polished to studio quality. It’s very much a document of the band that Post War Glamour Girls are, a snapshot of a band who are continually evolving, forever restless, always trying out new arrangements and new material. And yes, they’re the kind of band who place art over commerce, who really are bursting with creativity and are making music for the right reasons. And they truly are one of a kind.
Doing what I do, I get to hear a lot of music. I’m talking 30 or so CDs in the mail each week, and at least twice that in terms of emails offering downloads and streams. It might sound glamourous, but actually, with time, it gets increasingly dull. So many dull, derivative bands, all being hailed by their PR and labels or themselves as the next big thing, the most exciting band to emerge in a decade or whatever. On first hearing ‘Sick’ by Mannequin Death Squad, I found myself getting properly excited for the first time in a while.
On meeting the Australian duo, consisting of Daniel Cohn and Elena Velinsky – who surely have one of the best band names around – just before their gig at Santiago in Leeds, as main support to Hora Douse, I was immediately struck not only by how down to earth and thoroughly pleasant the duo are, but by their insuppressible enthusiasm and the fact they’re so genuine. We meet in the downstairs bar of the little venue and sit around a table. The idea is that I’ll do a five to ten-minute quick-fire Q&A, but we end up chatting and talking around stuff instead. El is the ultimate rock chick, sporting a faded Led Zep T-shirt, shades perched on top of her head, and immediately I get a sense that these people were born to do this. They may be about to play to room with a capacity of 100 or so, which looks and feels like someone’s living room, but they’re rock stars irrespective of sales or fanbase. That said, on the strength of tonight’s outing and their Eat Hate Regurgitate mini-album, they won’t be playing venues of this size for long.
I ask them how their first trip to the UK as a touring band has gone so far.
‘Good,’ they both reply without hesitation. ‘I think the Adelphi’s probably been our favourite show so far,’ El expands. ‘It’s a cool, real, dirty venue…’
‘…and a big community,’ Dan adds.
I’ll admit I’m slightly surprised, but then, Hull is a surprising place. It’s not the first place that springs to mind when you’re listing cities with buzzing music scenes, but as the City of Culture for 2017, there does seem to be a lot going on there these days.
‘It’s amazing. It’s a lot like the scene back home in Newcastle,’ Dan says. ‘It’s got a strong community, and big bands…’
‘Everyone takes care of each other, and likes each other’s music and supports each other, it’s cool’ El adds.
They’re archetypal Australians, in many ways: they’re paid back, and say ‘cool’ and ‘awesome’ a lot. They also finish one another’s sentences in a way which shows a real synchronisation and intuition, and I feel that I’m witnessing the key to their music-making in action.
They’ve been equally impressed by the reception of their shows in London, and in Brighton, at the Hope and Ruin. Their tour has certainly taken them to some of the country’s less obvious cities and venues: not only Hull, but also Scunthorpe… Still, that gig (along with a second Hull date) was supporting Slaves, which a big deal and remarkable exposure for a band with only two singles to their credit. I’m eager to find out about how they scored that slot on their very first trip.
‘We had a gig booked in Scunthorpe, at the Café independent, which clashed with theirs,’ Dan begins
‘…so they wanted to book it,’ chops in El.
‘They listened to our music and they liked it, so they asked us…’ and being rather a music-starved backwater, the show went down particularly well, ‘They really appreciate musos coming up that way. I think it’s like an ego thing for those big cities that are really highly rated with music, that people take it for granted, and then at the other end of the spectrum, you go to small towns and everyone makes the most of it.’
How have you found UK audiences have differed from audiences at home?
‘They’re pretty similar,’ El observes.
‘We were getting a good response in Melbourne just before we left,’ adds Dan. ‘We’re a relatively new band, kinda like a year of playing gigs, but we’re getting really good responses here, probably even a bit better.’
‘We’ve got a lot of our friends back home, so it’ always going to be a good response,’ El says with a laugh.
It’s a fair observation: the test of any band is how they go down when playing to strangers and non-fans. The reactions of audiences on this tour indicates it’s a test they have nothing to worry about. El talks about the number of people going up them to compliment them on their sets – particularly the diversity of their style – afterwards, which is gratifying.
‘We’ve got a good mix of songs in there, there’s only two of us, and people seem to like them all differently, evenly.
They certainly do have a good mix: the band pitch themselves as existing in the space between The Melvins and Taylor Swift, which I suppose is a fair summary of their balancing sludgy riffs and magnificent pop melodies. Are their individual tastes conflicting or simply diverse?
El laughs. ‘Well, actually, I listen… he’s like the heavier guy, but I do heavy too, but he actually loves ‘Shake it Off’, and I like Melvins, but we both like Melvins, and we both like I all sorts. We listen to things that are heavy and poppy.’
‘We listen to absolutely everything,’ Dan confirms. ‘It helps to break the monotony of one genre.’
‘Slaves are awesome, because they’re so heavy, but when you look, they’ve got really catchy, poppy choruses,’ says El.
Dan feels compelled to explain the Taylor Swift thing in more detail: ‘The Taylor Swift thing came from when we were backpacking in Thailand and we went and did karaoke, and I absolutely smashed that ‘Shake it Off’ song…. Terribly’, he adds at El’s prompt.
They throw an eclectic and quite unexpected mix of acts into the ring when listing other artists they listen to: (Led) Zeppelin, (Pink) Floyd, Breeders, Hole, Marilyn Manson… ‘Going back to my roots, I used to be a thrash metalhead,’ Dan adds, and we love grunge. But we love pop as well. I’ll like something completely left of centre and not be embarrassed to say it.’
England has a strange perception of Australia, filtered through Neighbours and Home and Away, and internationally, Australia has been represented by the likes of Kylie and Savage Garden. How do you reconcile that with the actuality of bands like yourselves and, say, DZ Deathrays? I imagine they, and you, are more representative of what’s actually going on…
‘For sure!’ Dan says.
El gives some cultural context: ‘Neighbours and stuff is for, like, stay at home mums, I mean, you can watch it, it’s a good show and all, but…’
Dan: ‘The whole country’s obsessed with AC/DC still, but…’
El: ‘…we’ve got this whole buzzing music scene in Melbourne, we just keep going to gigs and there are so many awesome bands…’
Dan: ‘It’s an amazingly diverse scene in Melbourne. You can find anything in there: there’s an underground punk scene where everyone’s playing in squat houses that no-one knows about, you have to know somebody, there’s this rock scene that’s happening in all the bars, and little grunge scenes…’
Do you think, in your experience, that music scenes have fragmented and that there’s more underground than there ever was but you really have to seek it out?
‘Yeah’, they reply in unison.
Dan: ‘There are so many venues in Melbourne, that you’re spoiled for choice. There’s this avant-garde thing happening…’
El: ‘There’s a good gig guide, and if you go on the gig guide in Melbourne, you can just see all these bands, and you can just choose one and go and I’ll always be pretty cool.’
Dan: ‘There’s always something on. We’ve been all around Europe and we’ve tried to catch gigs, and haven’t really taped into the underground bands, but we came here and playing in Hull, and there are all these good bands. We went back to the same venue the next night and have drinks at the Adelphi, and all the bands are great. It reminds us of back home in Melbourne, there’s talent everywhere.’
I suggest that in terms of getting bands to an audience outside their local catchment, the Internet, far from killing the music industry, has simply made it different, particularly where small bands are concerned.
El concurs. ‘I think it’s made the game more creative,’ she says. ‘And we certainly have more access to bands.’
Do you consider yourselves primarily a live band? How do you enjoy the studio work?
‘’Cause we’re really new,’ El says, her voice going up at ‘new’, ‘we’ve only done one studio session, for the EP, so we’ve played live more. But we love both. I think you have to play live if you’re recording an album, that’s the fun part.’
‘We love all aspects,’ Dan adds. ‘Our favourite thing is to record a song, listen to it back, and change it, and experiment, but then, there’s nothing like playing a show, either. But even promoting can be fun, putting so many different mediums of art into it.’
They’ve certainly been creative with their own promotion. ‘Sick’ was a hell of a debut, and the video is fucking brilliant. How did the ‘zombie’ video come about?
El: ‘Well, we had a different idea, and it kind of failed… and then we came up with this idea really quickly, ‘cause the lyrics are “cigarettes and soda pop” and we wanted to pretend that it’s really easy to sell something like that…’
Dan: ‘It’s a bit of stab at consumerism in a way, and how everyone’s pretty easily manipulated by branding. It goes for everything, where you like stuff because you’re told to like something: don’t be a sheep and figure it out for yourself.’
El: ‘And then we came up with the branding thing, like a stamp…’
Dan: ‘It wasn’t supposed to be zombies, but kinda just escalated really quickly, and it worked.’
El: ‘It was fun, a lot of fun. My brother directed that one.’
So you’ve got elements of social commentary and criticism in there, and there’s a certain venom and angst in your songs. Are you angry? Or is the music just a release?
El takes a moment to consider this. ‘I think it’s more… it’s fun. It is fun, yeah!’
‘From my side, it’s pretty much all expression,’ Dan says. ‘We like just getting in a rehearsal space and just jamming songs, and it’s good fun: you’ve got good vibes going round…’
El again: ‘We’ve got older songs that I wrote where I was upset about something, as well, and then you put them in, and it’s sort of attitude behind it…’
Dan: ‘Lyrically, usually there’s a lot to be said…’
‘Yeah, it’s definitely a release,’ El concludes.
That release is clearly apparent in the medium of the live show. They explain how they like to layer things up, with bass tracks and additional guitars to create a full band sound, something which isn’t possible on stage, however much instrument-swapping they engage in. Still, this gives the live sound an immediacy and when cranked up loud, it works a treat. And, of course, such multi-instrumental capabilities afford them a lot more flexibility than the average two-piece. How do you decide who plays what on which track?
‘It’s kinda like who writes the guitar part does guitar and sings’ El explains. ‘And then if I have an old song, I’ll bring it in and if he has one, he’ll bring it in, and I’m like “right then, I’m drumming for this song”. We work together to make the song, though. We try to make it equal, but at the moment, I’m doing more guitar than him, so he’s going to get at some writing.’
‘That’s our opposite instruments, too’, says Dan.
‘I’m originally a drummer,’ El confirms.
‘I’ve only been drumming for about a year,’ Dan admits. ‘El smashes it on drums. It’s good to mix it up.’
So, finally, the burning question: when can we expect an album proper?
Dan hesitates. Can they say?
El steps in: ‘We’re going back to Australia – ‘cause we have to, and we’ve got gigs set up after this tour – and the we’re going to start writing. We’ve actually already got about half the album done…’
‘…about six tracks,’ Dan confirms.
El: ‘…yeah, about six tracks, so we only need a few more. So once we get back, we’re going to save up money to actually do the album. We might even try to do a Kickstarter.’
Dan: ‘Yeah, maybe.’
El: ‘Yeah, I think an album by the end of the year.’
Dan: ‘Hopefully, next time we come here we’ll be promoting it.’
Here’s very much hoping. Meanwhile, the mini-album Eat Hate Regurgitate is a blistering five tracker, and it’s out on October 7th through Integrity Records.
I’ve been saying that Post War Glamour Girls are one of the best bands to have emerged from anywhere ever since I first clapped ears on their debut single, and never once have they disappointed since, thus justifying my opinion. Actually, it’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. And here they are on a split 7” in the mega-cool Too Pure Singles Club series on a Leeds showcase edition shared with Menace Beach. The occasion? The 45th anniversary of legendary Leeds record store, Jumbo Records. I’ve spent a fair few quid in there over the years, and the fact they’re still trading is a testament to the fact it’s as great an independent music outlet as you’ll find.
The two tracks couldn’t be more different: Menace Beach’s ‘Hex Breaker’ is a hazy, fuzzed-out lo-fi drifter, a mid-tempo slow-burner that sounds like it was recorded on a condenser mic. With laid-back vocal and hefty, plodding riff, it’s something of a departure from their conventional feedback-drenched motoric slacker indie. That said, it’s still a brilliantly loose performance and boasts an effortless melody that’s breezy and accessible. File alongside your early Pavement EPs if you do that ‘by style’ thing. If, like me, you file your vinyl alphabetically, you might struggle with this.
Despite what the title might suggest, the PWGG offering on the other side, ‘Welfare by Prozac’ is anything but sedated, a characteristically tense and angular burst of post-punk that’s over and done with in a fraction over three minutes. It packs so much in, too: a nagging, jangling rhythm guitar is cut by a howling angular lead. A stonking bassline and thumping tom-led drum track meld together to provide the backdrop to the contrasting vocals: Alice’s nonchalant monotone is the perfect counterpoint to James’ wired hectoring, calling to mind the best of Brix era Fall and then adding a twisted pop sensibility.
This is a perfect example of why 7” singles are cool, and why not only records, but the split single endure. A split MP3 release just doesn’t cut it.
The last decade has seen The Brudenell evolve from a low-key space used by local and lesser-known visiting bands of the type most other venues wouldn’t let through the door (my first visit to The Brudenell was to see Whitehouse) to one of the UK’s most renowned music venues. Despite this – and perhaps one of the reasons people truly love the place – they still cater for the smaller bands and locals, and open their doors to unusual events, in the way only a non-profit organisation can. Tonight’s show is a classic example: four quality acts comprising one of the most eclectic bills I’ve seen this year for the grand entry fee of precisely nothing. It may be a way of enticing people in on a Sunday evening after the end of the academic year, but I can’t imagine anyone would grumble at paying a fiver for this. Take the headliners, for a start: Living Body is the new musical vehicle for Jeff T. Smith of Juffage renown, in collaboration with Katie Harkin (Harkin, Sky Larkin, Wild Beasts, Sleater-Kinney), Vessel Tom Evans, Alice Rowan (Mayshe-Mayshe) & Sarah Statham (Esper Scout).
It’s a busy night for Alice Rowan. Starting the evening’s entertainment off after a few technical hitches with a Mayshe-Mayshe set. Something amongst the myriad wires that connect her loop pedal and various other effects and one of her mics isn’t sending the right kind of signal, but after she skips the first song and gets going, she very quickly has everyone’s attention. Airing songs from her new November EP, she showcases an enticing and intriguing brand of minimalist electronic pop with hints of Young Marble Giants. There are some interesting beats and some resonant bass notes in the mix alongside chiming bells, whistles and hair dryer and Alice’ meek and understated style of performance is an integral part of the appeal of a set that’s utterly compelling.
Mayshe-Mayshe
I caught the tail end of Buen Chico’s set at Long Division Festival in June, and found their brand of quirky indie entertaining enough. On that day, they suffered for appearing alongside and in between so many outstanding acts. Singer / keysman Morgan has hair and a frame which suggests he was born to be in an indie band, and the foursome channel a certain nerdiness which is self-effacing and charming: their clever-clever lyrics are delivered without smugness or superiority. They have some decent tunes and they play well. Concluding their set with a dilogy of theologically-themed songs inspired by Job. They’re good fun, but again, prove to be the night’s least memorable band simply by virtue of the outstanding nature of the other acts on the bill.
Buen Chico
Despite their having been in existence for a few years now, and despite the fact I have – and very much like – all of their releases to date (the album Contour Lines (2014) and 2015 Violet EP), this is the first time I’ve seen Shield Patterns perform live. With the duo – Richard Knox and Claire Brentnall – largely static behind a vast bank of synths and digital kit, they cultivate a certain distance from the audience. Swathed in smoke, illuminated primarily by fixed red backlights, they’re almost silhouetted from the audience’s vantage point.
Shield Patterns
The stark yet shrouded visuals compliment the music perfectly as they build deep, murky swells of blooding sound. Knox – sporting a Melvins T-shirt which suggests he’s not all about the atmospheric and ethereal 2/7 – has a particularly interesting device with which, using a conventional drumstick – he ‘drums’ to create immense, thunderous drum sounds which boom vastly and echo as if the sound is travelling six miles up a valley in a grand mountain range. Theirs is a sound which evokes immense spaces and transports the listener to places far beyond the confines of a room. While I always admired Glissando (Richard’s previous musical venture), the hushed nature of their performances meant that if you couldn’t hear a pin drop, then you probably couldn’t hear half of their music either. The Shield Patterns sound is altogether bigger, bolder, and denser, and more than manages to drown out the endless babble of the chubby tosser behind me. Moreover, their music is completely captivating and everything else fades to nothing in the face of their immersive, texture-filled songs.
Shield Patterns
That Katie Harkin is absent from Living Body’s first tour – being a member of about half a dozen other bands as well as having a solo career, it’s not entirely surprising she has other touring commitments – isn’t an impedance to their creating a rich and varied sound. Adopting a standing position behind the drum kit, Sarah Statham makes her presence felt physically and sonically, and it’s clear from simply looking at this ragtag collective (who could also easily qualify as a Leeds supergroup, Alice’s residence in York notwithstanding) that they’re different, and that each member has something unique to offer. The resultant output is fittingly different too.
Living Body
Jeff T. Smith and Alice Rowan co-front the band and banter their way through the set with a disarming naturalness, mock-bickering over which songs are ‘rock’ and which ones ‘pop’ (the way to tell a rock song is by Alice’s wearing of shades). The fact is that there are elements of both to all of the songs, with shoegaze, post-rock, folk, sunny indie-rock and even 70s radio-rock all spun into an inventive aural cocktail – or, as they refer to it, post-Brexitcore. Because everything’s post-something and everything is something-core. As such, it’s perfect. Moreover, a month on from the referendum and the reality of what the future may bring is still sinking in. Recent weeks have brought political and financial turmoil, a terrifying upsurge in racism and hate crimes and if only one thing is certain, it’s that Britain is a nation horribly divided. But for a short time, everything is ok. In this small corner of Leeds, thanks to great bands and cheap beer, there is no disunity, and life is good. Hail the Living Body!
It’s the hottest day of the year so far: the mercury’s teetering in the top twenties and I’ve had a hectic and predictably crap day at work. The train from York to Leeds is fucking rammed, and I almost melt as I make my way from the station to the little underground space that is Leeds’ primary dedicated rock venue, The Key Club. At least I can attribute my heavy perspiration to atmospherics rather than anxiety over interviewing full-throttle sludge metal masters Raging Speedhorn. The simple fact is, I don’t know what, or who, to expect.
In the event, tour manager Jim is as welcoming and affable guy as you’re likely to meet, and while I’m amazed just how busy it is backstage – it seems the entire world ants to interview Raging Speedhorn tonight, and the press are out in droves for video interviews and other kind of features – things are simultaneously organised but laid back. It’s not surprising it’s busy: the release of their first new album in nine years, which also sees Frank Regan return to the fold, has reignited interest in the band.
I’ve been booked in to chat with drummer Gordon Morison, and I’m reminded of the first interview I conducted with a ‘proper’ band, (the local bands I shot the breeze with for the local paper back in the 90s really don’t count) when I waited an age outside The Well in Leeds to interview Rolo Tomassi and was given some five minutes with drummer Edward Dutton. In the event, he was cool and eloquent, while I was shamefully anxious and anything but cool.
Settling into some big leather sofas at the back of the venue’s extended backstage area – really, the backstage area is bigger than the public space, but then, there’s a lot of kit in for these bands, and I expect that’s not uncommon – I immediately feel at ease: there’s no pretence or celebrity bullshit here. Nevertheless, I promise a quickfire Q&A, not least of all because I like to get in and out as efficiently as possible, and without outstaying my welcome. Besides, I have to transcribe the exchange afterwards, and wading through over half an hour of audio is a real chew. And so, with the thunderous drums of By Any Means soundchecking, we quickly get down to business:
AA: You’re back on tour: how have the shows gone down so far?
GM: Really good. It’s just been really nice to get back out and play some more shows. This is the longest we’ve been out, probably the longest tour since we’ve been back together, so it’s hard – we’re not used to it any more – but…
AA: Does it get harder as you get older?
GM: I think it does, but…
AA: Everything does?
GM: Yeah… I think the alcohol numbs the pain until the next morning, and then you’re feeling it again but yeah, it’s been really, really good.
AA: You’re playing some pretty small venues this time around, but you’ve also played some big festival sets since returning to the live arena. Do you enjoy the intensity of the more intimate shows, getting up close and personal with the fans?
GM: Yeah, we’d rather play the small venues, to be honest. But sometimes it’s not really up to us. We’ve got to work with our agent, and it’s got to be about the fees and stuff.
AA: Well, you’re not going to turn down a major festival show.
GM: No, I mean, the major festivals, we’ve been blown away by what we’ve done… headlined a stage at Sonisphere, headlined a stage at Download this year… So it’s moving in the right direction of where we want the band to go. We’re getting back to where we want the band to be now, and it’s better now, because we’re in charge of the whole situation. There’s no-one telling us we have to do this, or we have to do that. We decide as a group if we want to do it or not.
AA: Your new album, Lost Ritual, was crowd-funded through PledgeMusic and smashed the target. How does that feel?
GM: Awesome. Amazing. I mean, it was just a little idea, like ‘should we do a new record?’ and it just… It took a while to get to the target, and we were a bit nervy about it, but then as soon we get to the target, and then it went ‘Boom!’ and it went crazy. I think the crowdfunding this is the best way, especially for our band, because we’ve been signed to these big major labels and sometimes it’s not all that it’s cracked up to be.
AA: There’s no question that the Internet has revolutionised the music industry? A lot of people – a lot of them major artists and industry people – complain about it, but you’d say that for some people, like yourselves, it’s a change for the best?
GM: Yeah. I think that PledgeMusic is the best way for bands to do it. It’s quite stressful, and if you’ve got a manager it’s easier, but me and Jim manage the band, so we have to deal with day-to-day stuff. And it’s great, because you actually see the product from nothing to having it in your hand, and that’s amazing.
AA: And the end product is amazing. Lost Ritual is a belter, one seriously intense record. Historically, you’ve a reputation for songs about nihilism drugs of various kinds. What was the inspiration and driving force behind the new album?
GM: The only thing we really wanted to do was go back to our roots, like the sound of what made the band successful in the first place, the first two records. Especially ‘cause Frankie’s come back into the band.
AA: What was it like being back in the studio with the original twin vocal assault reinstated? Was it a powerful feeling?
GM: Yeah. To be fair, I love Kev, and he’s still one of my best friends now, but it was never Raging Speedhorn without Frankie being in the band. And I think he needed the break, and I think we needed the break, not from him, but other things were going on at that time. It’s just the best thing we’ve done. we all got in a room and practiced, and finally thought ‘this is gonna work’. So yeah, it’s great.
AA: You emerged from the Nu-Metal scene, but were never actually a Nu-Metal band. How do you think the metal scene, particularly in the UK, has changed since you first started out?
GM: It’s changed a lot, definitely. I think it’s changed… I don’t know if it’s changed for the better. I think it’s a lot better for the UK bands now because they seem to be getting out there a lot more than when we first started, it was all American bands coming over here.
AA: It also seems a lot more grass roots now, with bands emerging from local scenes with bands getting up and doing things for themselves.
GM: Exactly.
AA: So the drive has changed, with things moving from the bottom up. And I think in the current climate, people are angry, and metal is a response to that in a way.
GM: Certainly, especially with what’ going on. I think it’s going to turn out some fucking bangin’ bands. There’s amazing young bands coming out, not only in the metal scene, but in the rockier scene as well. I see it a lot because I work with bands, I tour manage bands. I have my own splitter van company [vanmorisontours]. So I see it first-hand, seeing bands going from no-one really giving a shit to being quite biggish bands, and it’s great. There’s a band called Milk Teeth now, they’re more grungy, and they’re fucking great. I work with them quite a bit, and it’s just so good to see these bands just doing it on their own.
AA: What do you think it is about Raging Speedhorn that sets you apart, and has been the main factor in your enduring appeal?
GM: I think it’s just because we’re completely different. I mean, there are bands around like us, but we’re just lucky we got through the mainstream and had that for a while, I think it’s just that in this scene, there’s no one-one really sounds like us. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a band that sounds like us.
AA: And perhaps the ferocity gives you the edge?
GM: Yeah, I think it’s the attitude. I just don’t think people get what we’re all about, and I don’t think we know what we’re all about. We’re just a bunch of six guys out to have a fucking good time. But then, I read an interview the other day that said we’ve got a ‘yobbish’ attitude, and it made me laugh because I’d never thought of it in that way. Basically they said that we were like six chavs playing metal. I suppose it could be seen as yobbish ‘cause we don’t really care.
AA: Who wants middle-class metal?
GM: Exactly, and that’s just it. We’re all from complete working-class backgrounds, so we’re just who we are, and we don’t really care if anyone likes it or not. But luckily people do, so I think that must be the appeal, I think it’s ‘cause we’re just normal people. When you go to these big festivals, you see bands going backstage and they won’t go out front and don’t hang out with people, we just go straight out, we’ll go and see our mates in the camp, we don’t really care. The only thing that’s different between me and the people watching us is that I’m up there playing drums, so why the fuck shouldn’t I go and speak to people? It’s stupid, really.
AA: Your Facebook page describes the band as a ‘12 legged, beer fuelled hate machine’, which I’d take over an 8-legged groove machine any day. But what’s your beer of choice?
GM: Oh! There’s too many now. I’ve really go me and James, our guitarist, really into ales now. It’s unbelievable. I love it all, to be fair. There’s not really many beers I don’t like. I love Brewdog stuff. I live in Wales, so there’s loads of really nice ales. I like more pale ale kind of vibes. But I just love it all. We were drinking white Russians last night till five in the morning. Frank literally hasn’t stopped since we got out, so the last five days…
AA: Got to keep the momentum.
GM: Yeah, you’ve got to, ‘cause if you don’t then you crash and burn. This morning I was thinking ‘I’m going to be fucked today’, but I feel alright again now. But they’ve just been drinking. Jim, our tour manager, and Frank, came with these big stein glasses. We’d stopped at Morrisons earlier on, then they had a bottle of… something, and poured it into these steins, and then orange juice, strawberries, in the van. Fucking hell. They’ve already started smashing it. Idiots!
He laughs. I applaud the band’s commitment to living the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle on the road. It seems a good time to wrap up, not least of all because it’s sweltering and all this talk of beer is making me all the more thirsty for a pint of something fresh and hoppy.
Aural Aggravation 