Posts Tagged ‘Leeds’

Listen: ‘…(something) ruined’ by Foldhead vs Christopher Nosnibor

Posted: 6 July 2025 in Recommended Streams and Videos, Singles and EPs
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Foldhead had making noise for some time. Nosnibor had spent the last few months taking steps beyond the staid spoken word scene via a series of ‘versus’ collaborations with experimental artists in and around York. So when Foldhead put out a shout out on Facebook for a collaborator to provide vocals for a set he was booked for, Nosnibor’s name cropped up.

The pair met for the first time on the day. Consequently, no one knew what the fuck to expect, least of all the two guys plugging into the PA. In an instant, a ‘third mind’ moment occurred, yielding noise terror which was infinitely greater than the sum of the parts. In that moment, they knew that this had to be the start of something. And so it was that …(something) ruined was born.

This is a document of that first explosive coming together.

Recorded live at Chunk, Leeds, 1st March 2019.

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Red Lorry Yellow Lorry – Strange Kind of Paradise

Posted: 5 July 2025 in Albums, Reviews
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10th July 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

The band’s Bandcamp page describe it as ‘the final chapter of a legendary journey’. David Wolfenden, who joined on guitar in 1982 after the release of their first single expands on this, writing that ‘40 years on and the guitars still try to strangle each other, the words still struggle to make sense of chaos and the rhythms drive us to a glorious destination.’

To describe Strange Kind of Paradise as ‘long-awaited’ would be an understatement: it’s an album practically no-one expected. Emerging that the murky milieu of the Leeds scene which was the spawning ground for all things dark and post-punk (and long before ‘goth was even a thing), Red Lorry Yellow Lorry’s early releases soundtracked the grim North in Thatcher’s Britain. They weren’t overtly political but they were clearly pissed off, and along with The Sisters of Mercy, Skeletal Family, and The March Violets (among others), they followed Gang of Four in capturing the zeitgeist.

During the 80s, they put out a solid string of albums and remained firm favourites on the alternative scene, and while they may have mellowed a shade over that time, with Blow (1989) being notable for making a departure towards more melodic territories, there was always a fire that burned through everything they did, and seeing them in 2015 at The Brudenell in Leeds reminded me on a personal level that the dark, brooding currents ran as strong as when I’d seen The Lorries play the Off The Streets benefit alongside the likes of The Mission and La Costa Rasa (and Utah Saints, where Andrew Eldritch joined them for a couple of songs) in August 1993, and they sounded exactly as they had in all the video footage I’d seen before and since.

It had looked for all the world that Blasting Off (1992) would be their final statement, and while the 2015 shows had seen the sale of limited CDs which mentioned the ‘forthcoming album’ Strange Kind of Paradise, almost twenty years on with no further movement, it seemed to be more of a mythical projection than a reality, as likely as a new Sisters album.

But last autumn, all that changed with the arrival of the Driving Black EP and the announcement that the album would follow shortly. And at long last, here it is. And yes, it was worth the wait.

The title track opens the album with the driving guitar and solid bass/drum pairing that is quintessential Lorries, the sound and mix reminiscent of Blasting Off – in particular ‘This is Energy’, but with the pace and determination stepped up several notches. Reed’s vocal is strong – in fact, it sounds the same as it did 30 years ago, although perhaps now, there are additional levels of nuance to his delivery, and it suits the songs well.

‘Chicken Feed’ (a mix of which appeared on the EP) is more melodic, even a shade groovy in a sort of 90s indie sense, the guitars chiming over layers of vocal harmony, and providing a hint of the diversity and expansion of songwriting which sets Strange Kind of Paradise apart from anything in their catalogue.

The acoustic-led ‘As Long as We’re Breathing’ is perhaps one of the most ‘different’ songs not only on the album, but in the entirety of their career, revealing an altogether softer, mellower side, while at the same time hinting at country and desert rock, Reed’s gravelly baritone reminiscent of Mark Lanegan. It’s a beautiful moment, and a truly moving song. ‘Nothing seems quite right / I’ve got a feeling we’re over the hill, but I don’t know because my chest is pretty tight / As long as we’re still breathing’, Reed sings with a palpable air of melancholy.

Then again, ‘Walking on Air’ brings a glammy swagger, but played almost in the rockabilly style of The Fall, marking another unexpected departure from the steely grey confines usually constructed by The Lorries. The same is true of the post-grunge ‘Killing Time,’ which again, is strong on melody, and big on emotional ache, riven with pining, yearning, sadness.

Side two opens with ‘Driving Black’, which, as I outlined in my review of the EP, is vintage Lorries all the way. Driving black, and driving hard. Easing off the gas a bit, ‘Shooting Stars Only’ returns to the vibe of Blasting Off, before ‘Many Trapped Tears’ goes for mid-tempo anthemic, with a solid riff. To clarify, we’re talking more Iggy Pop than Oasis in execution here. ‘The Only Language’ takes the tempo right up again, and is one of the most forceful sonic expressions they’ve made in a long time (even by their standards). Everything is firing on all cylinders as Reed snarls with total conviction ‘The only language I speak is the truth’. It’s one of those songs that gets you really pumped up, and the message has never felt more relevant.

And so it is that as this band – true stalwarts of the 80s alternative scene – finally sign off, we can reflect on how much we have to be grateful for. And as a final document, Strange Kind of Paradise sees them go off with a bang. It’s not a tired rehash, a limp collection of offcuts or unfinished works in progress, but an album that stands out as being quality all the way.

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The March Violets / Vision Video – The Warehouse, Leeds, 1st July 2025

Posted: 2 July 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

In terms of goth history, The Warehouse is pretty much ground zero. Synonymous in particular with The Sisters of Mercy in their early days, it was this milieu which also spawned The March Violets, making their return to the venue for the first time since 1983. I missed that one myself, having been seven at the time, but a fair few of the songs played that night are in tonight’s set list, too, and one suspects they probably sounded better this time around.

Early doors, there’s an almost 50/50 split of old goths and twenty-somethings, who really do seem to have embraced the original 80s dark punk look (as opposed to the ersatz emo stylings that passed as goth in the 90s). The Psychedelic Furs and Christian Death and Strawberry Switchblade are blasting over the PA as we wait for Vision Video, and I make myself comfortable with a pint of Weston’s Vintage at a reasonable £5.80 for a pint.

Vision Video have a long-established relationship with the Violets, with Tom Ashton having produced their first two albums. Stylistically, they’re at the rocky, post-punk end of the goth spectrum, who clearly take their cues more from ‘our’ brand of goth rather than the US ‘death rock’ scene (a mid-set cover of The Comsat Angels’ ‘You Move Me’ is illustrative).

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Vision Video

A three-piece with guitar, synths and live drums, the sequenced bass is really solid and sounds… real, with proper low-end frequencies delivered at appropriate volume that make your nostrils vibrate. They’re over here from Athens, Georgia, with a message: they’re anti-fascist, anti-war, anti-capitalist, anti-Trump and anti-dickhead. And as guitarist / vocalist Dusty Gannon is a veteran and ex-firefighter, this is a message that’s delivered with sincerity from a place of experience, and a message which informs the songwriting as much as a vintage record collection. He speaks at length in between songs: none of is it preachy, but it is passionate, and the crowd warms to them (and judging by the clamour front centre, a fair few had warmed to them and learned the words in advance).

The March Violets take the stage as The Sisters’ ‘Marian’ comes on, and it’s a swift fade as they’re straight in with ‘Long Pig’, with a barrage of squalling guitars and stuttering beats. It’s immediately apparent that they’ve still got it, and pleasingly, they haven’t faffed about with the arrangements of the old songs, right down to the hyperactive drum machine programming which defined their early sound. ‘Crow Baby’, dispatched near the top of the set is still wild and sounds like nothing else.

Reminding us that they didn’t release their first album proper until after their post-millennium return, they give us ‘Made Glorious’, from their epic 2014 debut, followed by ‘Hammer the Last Nail’, lead single from recently-released follow-up Crocodile Promises.

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The March Violets

Playing ‘Grooving in Green’ and then ‘Steam’ replicates the running order of their 1982 single, and the interplay between the different elements comes through clearly: first, there’s that unique Leeds sound, with a thick, chunky bass welded to a thunderous drum machine, juxtaposed with a guitar style that draws at least a certain degree of influence from Gang of Four – scratchy, trebly, choppy, with some unconventional use of harmonics – and then there are the songs themselves, which are the product of distinct personalities. Bassist Mat Thorpe, who joined for the new album provides the more shouty male vocal counterpoint to Rosie Garland’s clean, theatrical enunciations, and as such, the essence (no, they don’t play that) of the old classics is retained. Meanwhile, ‘Kraken Awakes’ and ‘Crocodile Teeth’, lifted from the new album from new album sits comfortably alongside the older material.

The sound seems to get louder and brighter (and probably purpler) about halfway through the set, and they take things up a notch, Rosie confessing that they’re having a blast up there – although, truth be told, it’s pretty obvious: she’s in fine voice, and busting moves all over, and Tom spends half the set with a massive smile on his face. They know they’re sounding good, and they know we’re loving it, too.

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The March Violets

Towards the end of the set, ‘Strangehead’ is particularly wild and wonderful. They encore with a blistering ‘Fodder’, and there is simply no way they could leave without giving us ‘Snake Dance’, which is one of the definitive anthems of goth – the Violets’ ‘Temple of Love’, if you will.

Tonight, we’ve seen a band on peak form, and proving that they’re a lot more than simply a heritage act, too. Long may they continue.

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Beige Palace / Lo Egin – Beige Palace / Lo Egin

Posted: 14 May 2025 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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Cruel Nature Records – 30th May 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

First things first: Beige Palace were ace, and their departure has left a gap in the musical world, especially in Leeds. In a comparatively short timespan, the trio produced a respectably body of work, evolving from their minimal lo-fi beginnings to explore musical territories far and wide, and this final release, split with another Leeds act, Lo Elgin, who, in contrast, have released precious little.

The accompanying notes provide valuable context for the final recordings laid down by Beige Palace, recorded at Wharf Chambers, one of Leeds’ finest DIY venues by Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe (guitar/keys/vocals)… and now helming the mighty Thank.

Taking a step back from the discordant post hardcore of ‘Making Sounds For Andy’ and the freewheeling experimentation of ‘Leg’, Beige Palace’s side largely favours the repetition and extreme dynamic shifts found on their 2016 EP ‘Gravel Time’. The production here also returns to the lo-fi, DIY approach from that EP, eschewing the more polished sound of their two full-length albums. Through returning to their roots, Beige Palace manages to drag their sound to new extremes, with these three tracks bringing to mind artists as disparate as US Maple and Sunn O))).

‘Wellness Retreat’ is dense and discordant, low-end synth drone and bass coalescing to a eardrum-quivering thrum over which scratchy guitars and vocals come in from all sides to forge a magnificently disjointed and angular two minutes and twenty seconds. Too chaotic to really be math-rock, it’s a squirming can of worms, a melting pot where Shellac meets Captain Beefhart at a crossroads with Trumans Water. Or something.

Bringing hints of Silver Jews, the lo-fi crawler ‘Good Shit Fizzy Orange’ does math-rock but with an experimental jazz element, the sparse picked guitar and slow-rolling cymbal work juxtaposed with what sounds like the strumming of an egg slicer before sad strings start to weave their way over it all. The lyrics are, frivolous and stupid, and we wouldn’t want things any other way. Because much as one may value well-crafted, poetical lyrics, sometimes dumb, trashy, meaningless words work just fine. Better than fine, even.

There’s a hint of later Earth about the spartan folksiness of ‘Update Hello Blue Bag Black Bag’ – a song which sounds serious but as the title suggests, isn’t quite so much, but around the midpoint, all the pedals are slammed into overdrive and suddenly there’s a tidal wave of distortion, a speaker-busting cascade of heavy doom-laden drone. And as it tapers to fade, while we mourn the departure of a truly great band, we get to rejoice that during the span of their career, Beige Palace did everything. It’s a solid legacy they’re leaving, and one which may well expand in the years to come. There will be people in five, ten, fifteen years asking ‘remember Beige Palace?’, and other people will be replying ‘Yes! I saw them at CHUNK!’. Well, I will be, anyway. And we still have Thank to be thankful for.

The two pieces which represent Lo Elgin’s contribution mark a sharp contrast to those of Beige Palace. The first, the eleven-minute monster that is ‘Beneath the Clock’, is a thunderous blast of doom-laden rage and anguish. The barking, howling vocals are low in the mix of droning, lurching, lumbering noise, through which strings poke and burst, and as the noise sways and sloshes like a boat tossed hither and thither on waves in a storm as it attempts to guide its way through the entrance to the harbour, the listener finds themselves almost seasick with the unpredictable movement. Around seven minutes in, the tempest abates and the piece meanders into altogether mellower territory, where again I’m reminded of Earth circa Angels of Darkness, Demons of Light. And then, right at the end, there’s a massive jazz segment, backed with crushing guitars. I did not see that coming. And then ‘Abomination’ is different again- a gritty, gnarly, gut-spewing blast of noise that is simply too much…. But too much is never enough as we’re led through a racketacious swamp that starts out Motorhead and toboggans down to a crazed morass of manic jazz.

The two very different sides belong to completely different worlds, at least on the surface. But they are both staunchly strange, keenly experimental, and dedicated to inventive noisemaking, and as such, compliment one another well. And this also perfectly encapsulates the essence of the Leeds scene: diverse, noisy, weird, and wonderful.

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Fawn Spots – Ersatz

Posted: 2 May 2025 in Albums, Reviews
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4th April 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

I miss Fawn Spots. I didn’t especially like them at first – musically, they were lo-fi, energetic, and thrilling, but they came across as bratty, even a shade twatty, at times, notably in my recollection as coming across as somewhat ‘off’ and disparaging when supporting The Twilight Sad at The Duchess in York. I miss The Duchess, too. I suppose, like Fawn Spots at the time, it had its faults: the pillars weren’t great for views at times and the sound was often a bit crap, but it brought some top-notch touring bands to York, with The Fall, and The Psychedelic Furs’ DV8 performance being clear standouts.

But I came to feel an affection for Fawn Spots: they evolved, in every respect – from a raw, messy two-piece cranking out some frantic racket, to a proper band, with some proper songs – although not too polished. They never got so slick as to lose their edge. It’s easy to take bands who are always out on the local circuit for granted, and it’s only when they move on – whether it’s because they call it a day, or move on beyond the local scene – that their significance on a personal level becomes apparent. You go from seeing them every other week either headlining or supporting a bigger-name touring band and it all being so much ‘yeah, whatever, cool, but this is the sixth time this year, and it’s only May’ to suddenly, they’re absent.

After a clutch of indie and self-released EPs and bits, and some touring, and with the release of their critically-lauded debut LP From Safer Place in 2015 on Critical Heights, which received coverage from Record Collector and Louder than War Fawn Spots seemed to be on the brink of something. And then… they vanished, and we forgot about them because we were busy with our lives and all the other bands we were listening to, and all the rest.

This posthumously-released album has been lurking in the vaults for some time. As they write – and at the same time highlighting their wildly eclectic influences – ‘A few months after recording this album the band ceased to exist… The product of a period of obsession with Arab Strap, Angels of Light, Lungfish and the song ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ by Crowded House.’

I love Angels of Light, but don’t love nostalgia: however, while cooking the other day, I flipped to the 80s music day on the Smithsonian channel, and heard ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’ – a song I own on 7” – for the first time in ages, and was reminded just how good it is. It’s not the first thing that comes to mind listening to the fuzzing, buzzing guitar blast of Ersatz.

‘Fortunes’ is a bit Fugazi, a bit Girls Against Boys, gritty, driving, sturdy, while ‘Blossoms’ is dynamic, textured in the way Nirvana pushed soft and chiming vs max overdrive.

The album has energy, that’s for sure. It also has some dense riffs and some keen melodies. Some are keener than others, it’s true, and the hollering ‘Daylight Runner’ feels a bit emo with a dash of mathiness. The same could be said of ‘Strangers’ but the early Dinosaur Jr vibe rescues it., while ‘Faint House’ has the post-punk-with-a-commercial-edge feel of White Lies. Quite liking White Lies, and bearing in mind the timing and context, I have no issues with this, but a decade on, I can comprehend why some may be rather less enthused.

Listening to these songs now, I feel I’d have appreciated them more contemporaneously. Buzz does count for something, it seems, as does being in the moment. If they’d sustained their momentum, if they’d remained current… things would likely have been very different. And perhaps some sounds do date, until nostalgia resurrects them. What goes around comes around, but sometimes it takes time.

Winding the clock back, the songs on Ersatz are well-realised, and played with real energy. But this an album that is, essentially, of its time. It’s not so much that its dated, as that is just feels… not entirely confluent with the zeitgeist of 2025, not entirely gripping in the sense that you need to check your back yard to feel safe.

Had it been released in 2015, and given the right press push and media uptake – because. let’s be honest, leading horses to water is only part of the equation when it comes to getting new bands heard – Ersatz could have propelled Fawn Spots to the next level – not because it was their best work, but their most accessible, and their most zeitgeisty work. And it has hooks: the post-punky ‘No Source’ is bold and guitary, but catchy, too.

Ersatz is now a historical document. It feels anachronistic, and doesn’t really sit anywhere in 2025. But it reminds us not only of how things were, but what could have been… and how we miss Fawn Spots.

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The March Violets continue their late-career blooming with hometown show at Leeds Warehouse in July

Posted: 28 April 2025 in Live, Previews and Editorial
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Performing at Warehouse on Tuesday 1st July 2025, the boundary-shredding Yorkshire post/punks continue their epic live comeback with this unmissable gig on home turf.

Following a rapturous reception to what were their first live shows in nearly a decade in 2023, plus high praise for their new studio output including 2024 album Crocodile Promises, which received a double thumbs-up from us at Aural Aggravation, and a reappraisal of their classic works in a series of reissues on the Jungle Records label; the cult band are clearly revelling in their recent revival.

Comprising founding members Rosie Garland (performer, poet and author) and Tom Ashton (Guitarist, producer and studio owner), plus Mat Thorpe on bass, the band are intending the shows to be a celebration of The March Violets’ legacy, while also honouring the irreplaceable contribution of friend and founding member Simon Denbigh.
Speaking about their recent reunion shows, The March Violets explain:

“Since the March Violets tour in 2015 we’ve been shocked at how many musical friends have passed over and out. And after Simon Denbigh’s life-changing stroke, it’s no surprise we all thought that was it for the Violets. When, in 2021, Jungle Records released Big Soul Kiss (The BBC Sessions double album) for Record Store Day 2021 it sold out its entire pressing in 24 hours. We were amazed at the response, absolutely amazed. We faced a choice – to fade away quietly or go out with a celebration.

We feel for Simon, and honour his massive artistic contribution & intense vision as one of The March Violets founding members. He’s irreplaceable, so we’re not going to try. We believe the legacy of The March Violets deserves a far better conclusion than sinking into silence, and now is the right time to do it.”

With their first incarnation described by Sounds magazine as “slinky, savage yet warmly delicate [with a] thirst for mystery, magic and brutal darkness”, The March Violets were a post/punk band cut from a different cloth. Founded in Leeds in 1981, from there the band would initiate an impressive career that would see them navigating all corners of the alternative scene and accrue a longstanding cult following. With their debut EP Religious As Hell released by Andrew Eldritch (frontman of fellow Leeds scene band The Sisters of Mercy), TMV would tally a total of seven successful Indie Chart singles including “Grooving in Green”, “Snake Dance”, “Deep”, and “Walk Into The Sun”, plus their ‘Radiant Boys’ EP, at the height of their powers. With an impeccable John Peel Session also under their belts, the band released two compilation albums Natural History (which peaked at No.3 in the Indie Charts) and Electric Shades in the US, before signing a major deal in 1985 with London Records. Releasing the poppier charms of the hit single “Turn to the Sky”, the track would notably feature in the John Hughes movie Some Kind of Wonderful in 1987, before the band eventually split later that year.

Reforming for a one-off hometown gig two decades later, their 2007 reunion would lead to a flurry of activity in the 21st Century including festival headline slots across Europe & the USA, the brand new studio albums Made Glorious (2013) and Mortality (2015), plus a storming Record Store Day release in 2021’s sell-out double album: Big Soul Kiss.

In 2023, The March Violets confirmed the release of their full back catalogue via Jungle Records for the first time, while releasing two new compilations Play Loud Play Purple and The Palace of Infinite Darkness in the run up. Taking their creative spurt into the studio, the band have also been working on new material and released a new record Crocodile Promises in 2024, via the Metropolis Records imprint.

Most recently, the TMV have been taking their gothic majesties stateside and have completed a triumphant tour of the USA, while also impressing UK audiences last summer with major festival appearances at the likes of Rebellion Festival and Bearded Theory.

Returning to the fore in 2025, The March Violets will be back with a vengeance for what promises to be a very special hometown show strewn with classics and new cuts, surprises and so much more.

On the night, the band will also be supported by one post/punk’s brightest new hopes – Vision Video. Following the release of their new album ‘Haunted Hours’, VV will be making the trip from Athens, GA, for a set of their refreshingly honest and dark gothic pop. Following on from their 2021 debut ‘Inked in Red’ (which told the story of lead singer Dusty Gannon (aka TikTok’s “Goth Dad”) and the darkness he saw as a soldier in Afghanistan), their recent work ‘Haunted Hours’ explores Dusty’s experience as a firefighter and paramedic working on the frontlines of the pandemic that followed his return. Vision Video will soon record their next LP Modern Horror at Maze Studios in Atlanta headed by Grammy award winning producer Ben Allen.

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TICKETS / DETAILS

Tickets On General Sale Wednesday 16 April

Doors 7.30pm / Curfew 11.00pm

Age Restriction – All ages, under 14 to accompanied by an adult over the age of 18

Available here:
https://pinkdot.seetickets.com/event/the-march-violets/the-warehouse/3385250

WMTID – Finding The Ai G-Spot

Posted: 2 March 2025 in Albums, Reviews
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1st March 2025

Christopher Nosniboir

Richard Rouska is something of a cult legend in his own lifetime: back in the 80s he was pivotal in the Leeds zine scene, documenting the emerging post-punk movement Leeds remains so renowned for, in real-time, subsequently writing a number of books. Along the way, he’s made some music of his own, recently making Well Martin This is Different his primary focus, with some prolific results. Finding The Ai G-Spot is WMTID’s fifth since their inception in the mid-late eighties, and serves up a set of remixes, with proceeds from any donations going to the Throat Cancer Fund.

And yes, it certainly is different, and that’s clear from the get-go. WMTID’s music is essentially electronica, but draws on a host of elements which have their origins in different decades and different scenes. I will admit that I misread the title as Finding The Ali G-Spot initially. Ai-iit! But while this album draws on a huge array of influences, you won’t find any naff cultural appropriations.

‘The Prince is Dead (Again)’ is a twisted hybrid of lo-fi post-punk, 80s electronic industrial (think Wax Trax! stuff in the late 80s / early 90s), space rock, and Krautrock, a motorik groove stricken through with some wild orchestral strikes and multi-layered vocals – and this is to an extent the template: ‘03:33 Time’s Up’ is exactly the same duration as the original version (‘333’) which appeared on I Know What You Are But Who Am I? in the Autumn of 2024, tweaked to optimise the hypnotic rhythm and detached-sounding vocals. The result is somewhere between DAF and early Human League. ‘Deep Down Low II’ – again reworking a track from I Know What You Are goes full-on techno / cybergoth stomper, with industrial-strength beats pounding away relentlessly. It works so well because it doesn’t take from the original, instead simply rendering it… more. More. MORE! And I want MORE!

There are hints of both KMFDM and very early New Order about ‘It’s (Another) Lovely Day’, but then, it’s as much a work of buoyant lo-fo indie and bedroom pop, while ‘Little Bombshells’ comes on a bit Prodigy, but again, a bit technoindustrial, and a bit kinda oddball, bleepy, bloopy, twitchy, stuttery, the vocals quavering in a wash of reverb as crashes of distortion detonate unexpectedly. Elsewhere, ‘Waiting For The End…’ goes dark and low and robotic, and ‘Three O’Clock Killer’ is hyperactive and warped, and brings menacing lyrics atop a baggy 90s beat.

It really is all going on here, and the end result feels like a wonderfully eclectic celebration of music, articulated through some quite simple compositions, all of which have solid grooves providing the backbone of each.

My general opinion of remix albums is widely documented and not entirely enthusiastic, but Finding The Ai G-Spot is a rare exception, mostly because it doesn’t feel like a remix album an doesn’t offer three or four unnecessary and unrecognisable versions of each song, boring the arse off all but the most obsessive fan. In fact, if you’re not up to speed on WMTID’s output – and there’s a fair chance you may not be, to be fair – Finding The Ai G-Spot offers a neat entry point and summarises the last couple of albums nicely, too.

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Helle – Hyper Bitch

Posted: 31 January 2025 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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31st January 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Whether they like to admit it or not everyone likes to have the opportunity to say ‘I told you’. And so Leeds feminist punk four piece Helle, who describe themselves as ‘a flurry of blistering riffs, unflinching lyrics and explosive live intensity’ and ‘an irresistible firestorm of grit and glamour that takes no prisoners’ drop their fifth single at the end of the longest month in history. And while revelling over witnessing one of their first gigs, supporting Weekend Recovery three years ago, and being blown away, leaving absolutely convinced – and rightly so – that this was a band to watch, I find myself wondering where the fuck has the time gone?

But there’s no time to wallow, and ‘Hyper Bitch’ goes a few steps beyond merely blowing away the cobwebs.

It starts with some dialogue, some chatter, it’s probably staged, but is the perfect representation of the superior music snob wanker who lectures at gigs, not only between bands, but talks over them because his opinion is so much more important. And yes, it’s always a him and it’s always some middle-class white twat who knows he knows best and could do far better. And then – BAM!

This is punk done proper: guitars, bass, drums all going all out – nothing fancy, just full-tilt, four-chord aggression, providing the perfect foil for vocals which bring that same, angry energy.

There’s some sass in the lyric department, too, constructing lines with a patchwork of movie titles in a fashion that we might have nodded to as an example of postmodern referencing and intertext not so long ago: the chorus hits with ‘I don’t wanna be a Mean Girl / I don’t wanna be Clueless like you’ as their tear into the object of antagonism.

It could be that I’m simply more aware now than before, but it seems that masculinity got even more toxic of late, that the shittiest, twattiest representations of the males of the species are pushing back against all of the progress made by feminism in preceding decades, presumably because the idea of strong women makes them feel somehow emasculated, or, put straight, scares them and wounds their pathetic egos and deflates their pathetic dicks. But what’s not necessarily worse, but harder to fathom, are women who are complicit in this, and who go out of their way to undermine others. I suppose this song is for them. But as a package – and a fiery one at that – Helle are part of a new wave of strong female bands who rock harder and rage harder than almost any of their male peers and are all about taking no shit, shouting up, and kicking ass.

‘Hyper Bitch’ encapsulates all of this perfectly.

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Red Lorry Yellow Lorry – Driving Black EP

Posted: 7 October 2024 in Reviews, Singles and EPs
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COP International – 6th December 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

What a year this is proving to be for bands who have lain dormant, at least on the studio front, for quite literally decades. And when it comes to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, it really has been a long time. The last Lorries release was an ultra-limited gig-only affair back in 2015, with just 50 copies pressed for Leeds in the August and 100 for Valencia the following month. Said EP featured two new songs, ‘Safe as Houses’ and ‘Piece of my Mind’, which were listed as being from the ‘forthcoming album Strange Kind of Paradise’. Time passed, and it really didn’t look like the album would ever see the light of day. But now, this official EP presages its arrival in February 2025, some thirty-three years since they called it a day with Blasting Off (1992).

The Lorries always stood apart from their contemporaries: whereas the Leeds post-punk scene of the early 80s clearly favoured black in every possible way, the band’s guitar sound was steely grey and like scraping metal, and paired with murky bass and relentless percussion, they forged an industrial clang that, was the perfect mirror to both the landscape and the times. Chris Reed’s baritone was less theatrical and more gnarly and angry-sounding than your archetypal goths which would follow. Fans will already know and appreciate all of this, but with so much history – and so much time having passed – some context is worthwhile, especially for those unfamiliar.

During their 80s heyday, they built a catalogue of outstanding 12” releases, with some of their best cuts not on the albums, and with Driving Black, they’ve added another. It contains six tracks, with two mixes of the title track – I gather the original will feature on the album – long with a mix of the as-yet-unreleased ‘Chickenfeed’. ‘Safe as Houses’ and ‘Piece of my Mind’ finally get to be heard – and owned – by more than 150 people, and hearing them again in this context reminds me of the buzz I got when first heard them almost a decade ago: they’re unmistakably RLYL, and if they’re more in the vein of the material on Blow and Blasting Off, the one thing that’s remained consistent throughout the band’s entire career is their sonic density, that claustrophobic, concrete-heavy heft, with ‘Piece of Mind’ being a solid mid-tempo chugger and a grower at the same time. It seems that the two tracks from the 2015 EP didn’t make the album cut – but this can be seen as good news, if they have material of this quality going spare. The same is true of ‘Living With Spiders’, a frenzied track which has spindly guitars crawling and scratching all over it. It would be a standout, but the consistency of quality across the EP means it’s one more cracking tune.

The strangest thing is how time – or our perception of time – seems to become evermore distorted. Perhaps some of it’s an age thing, but… I remember at the time, The Sisters of Mercy’s release of Floodland was hailed not only as the rebirth it was – stylistically and in terms of commercial success – but as a huge comeback after a great absence. But Floodland arrived only just over two years after First and Last and Always. Even more remarkably, I seem to recall the release of Crawling Mantra under the name The Lorries that same year was considered something of a comeback and a departure, even though Paint Your Wagon was released only the year before. The world seemingly lost the plot when The Stone Roses delivered The Second Coming after a five-year gap (and they really needn’t have bothered). And now, while Daniel Ek is advocating the production of ‘content’ on a constant basis, we have bands putting out their first new material in an eternity, and rather than having forgotten about them, fans are fervent – and rightly so.

Chris Reed’s reuniting with David ‘Wolfie’ Wolfenden – Leeds alumni who first appeared with Expelaires in 1979 along with one Craig Adams, who would do a stint as a member of The Mission’s touring lineup – is most welcome, because they’re simply a great pairing, and this is nowhere more apparent than on lead track ‘Driving Black’, which is vintage Lorries, kicking off with urgent, driving drums, before the throb of bass and rhythm guitar and a sinewy lead guitar, sharp and taut as a tripwire cut in and casts a thread right back to their earliest work in terms of style and structure.

The parallels between now and the 80s are uncomfortable; we may have ditched a Conservative government, but workers are still feeling the pinch, and global tensions are off the scale. That the BBC’s apocalyptic movie Threads is getting only its fourth screening – to mark its fortieth anniversary – feels worryingly relevant. And so it is that Red Lorry Yellow Lorry still sound essential and contemporary is equally testament to their songwriting and delivery, and the bleak times in which we find ourselves. Putting the social and political backdrop to one side, the Driving Black EP is an absolute triumph. There are no half-measures, nothing is weak or half-arsed, and it’s – remarkably – as if they’ve never been away.

AA

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