Posts Tagged ‘Nine Black Alps’

Christopher Nosnibor

Alongside the Utterly Fuzzled events, the monthly Horsemusic nights at The Black Horse – a traditional boozer just outside the walls at the north of the city centre – have rapidly become established as not only a showcase for local and regional talent, also a barometer to the health of the music scene in the City of York. While proper dedicated independent / grassroots venues have been whittled to just two, these nights tend to be well attended and the acts received enthusiastically.

Tonight’s lineup is an absolute cracker. Bitchcraft had been scheduled to headline, but switched to go on early doors in order to hotfoot it across town to play a cancer charity gig – that they’re in such demand speaks for itself, as does the fact that they’re keen to honour both bookings. Equally telling is that the organisers have elected to pass any donations from tonight’s Horsemusic event (which is free, donations welcome) on to the charity too. This is what makes a healthy scene, when bands and promoters support one another and work together. And so it is that Jo and Pete Dale are here, clapping the bands as hard as anyone, and flyering for their upcoming weekender in between.

The last time I saw Bitchcraft, they announced their change of name during the set, because some film makers weren’t happy about The Blair Bitch Project. The new name suits, though: the all-female four-piece serve up fierce grungy alt-rock of a very 90s persuasion, and despite some guitar issues later in the set, there’s no sense that they’re holding back and saving themselves for the second set. Oh no. They give a hundred per cent.

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Bitchcraft

The risk of the intended headliners going on first is that things could potentially fall a bit flat after, but the quality across the board is such that all three of tonight’s acts felt like headliners.

Too Late For Gods – who for some reason I’d assumed had travelled from further afield, but are also a York band, and who have brought some very keen mates along, wearing hoodies of their album, Misery Blooms – have a lot going on. A power trio with five-string bass and big amps, their Facebook page describes them as a ‘post-hardcore/emu three piece’, and I worry that Rod Hull’s estate might be wanting a word, but they go far beyond these genre parameters, with some thick, gnarly metal, grunge, nu-metal, at times a bit Fudge Tunnel, a bit metalcore, a bit post hardcore, a bit emo… It’s a matter of taste as to whether all of these different elements have equal appeal, but it’s a matter of fact that they kick up a lot of noise and some hefty, sludgy riffs, beefy bass and roaring vocals. It’s also a matter of fact that they play incredibly well, have their sound absolutely down, and mic stand issues not withstanding, deliver an outstanding set.

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Too Late for Gods

Sewage Farm have no issues. Well, not of a technical nature, although their rampant, riff-blasting rager of a new album, Fuck It, which I reviewed for Whisperin’ and Hollerin’ is positively foaming with piss and vinegar. They play pretty much the entirety of the fifteen track album during their set, which can’t be much over half an hour long. And it’s glorious. No chat. No tuning. No pausing to regain breath, take drinks, towel down. Instead, they power through the songs – short, fast, loud – packed back to back from beginning to end.

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They’re a blur of moppy hair giving the riotous energy of Mudhoney and the US alt scene before it transitioned into grunge proper, and because they’ve all been in countless bands since forever, they play with a proficiency which matches the power, and they’re simply a lot of fun. And fun is important, especially right now.

Christopher Nosnibor

Pub gigs provided me with my first experiences of live music, back in the early 90s. Often, pubs with upstairs rooms would pop bands on, and other still would simply pack bands somewhere in the bar. At some point, there seemed to be a shift away from this, with pubs seeming to be only really interested in solo performers and acoustic duos. Gigs in pubs stopped being such a thing. But now, pubs are dying. And grassroots venues are dying. Let me be more blunt they’re not so much dying, as being killed off in the interest of capitalist greed.

As I wrote recently on the repurposing of working men’s clubs – also suffering from a severe decline – as gig venues, so the return of the pub gig seems to solve two problems at once, namely how to bring punters into pubs, and providing bands with a place to play. This certainly seems to be happening in York.

The Black Horse used to be a Tap and Spile, and has always been a solid Yorkshire boozer – real ale and bar snacks, and a weekly quiz. But clearing the top part of the room – more a raised area than a mezzanine per se – creates a fairly generous stage space, and not being a massive space, means a basic setup whereby the bands play straight through their amps with only the vocals going through the house PA, simplifying soundchecks and making switchovers straightforward.

When this show was first announced, Strange Pink were an unknown quantity, but the release of their debut EP changed that, and the Hull-based power-trio-cum-supergroup consisting of Sam Forrest (Nine Black Alps, Sewage Farm), Eddie Alan Logie, and Dom Smith (whose resume is a feature in itself) make for a cracking opening act. They manage to be loose but tight at the same time, and it suits their 90s slacker rock stylings. As the EP attests, their approach is varied, and so, accordingly, is their set. They seem to grow in confidence as the set progresses, the sound coming clearer and brighter, too, and by the end of the set, they’re on fire. They close with ‘Boys Club’, the lead single from EP. It’s a clear standout and possibly their best song, with a strong hook, making for the perfect way to leave the crowd with something to remember.

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Strange Pink

The Bricks have become Aural Aggravation staples, and are a band I will always go and see whenever possible, for two simple reason: they have great tunes, and they’re a great live band – always. During their brief soundcheck, I began to wonder if their run of infallibility might come to and end tonight, but I needn’t have worried, because they were firing on all cylinders from beginning to end. In fact, they seem incredibly at home in tiny venues such as this, and flame-haired Gemma cranks up the wild, eyes-wide, lung-busting intensity, as if relishing the proximity. By the end of a fierce set, her fringe is swept away and plastered to her forehead. The band play relentlessly hard, too, and I try to analyse what it is about them that’s so compelling, why they work so well. The songs are fairly simple, both structurally and in terms of musical complexity – simple lead parts, four-chord riffs, classic (post-)punk, built around solid rhythms, with most songs two or three minutes long and strong hooks. Simple proves effective, especially when played with precision and passion.

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The Bricks

This does mean that Cowgirl have a tough act to follow. But they’re super-seasoned professionals. Danny Barton (guitar and vocals) plays bass in Sewage Farm, previously played bass with White Firs with former Federals drummer James Holdstock (who’s also drummed with Cowgirl), and has, in short, played in more bands in and around York than I’ve had hot dinners, and the same is true of Sam Coates (also guitar and vocals), who’s been pretty much ubiquitous on the scene for years now.

Looking around the room – it’s standing room only, and there’s plenty of beer being drunk, and I bet they’ve not sold this much on a Thursday night in a long time – half the people here are in other bands, or are otherwise recognisable as gig-going regulars, highlighting what a close-knit scene the city has, but also that this lineup has brought people out on a night that’s not exactly a popular one for gigs or pubs. The free entry and donations bucket may be a factor (although a facility to take card donations would likely have seen more contributions), but still, it’s proof that a quality lineup is a definite draw, and the fact a small venue can be filled more easily creates a sense of buzz, which is definitely the case here.

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Cowgirl

Early on in their set, a friend remarked that they sound like Oasis. He’s completely wrong, but the comment got me thinking. Some of the elements are there… some of the jangle, a bit of the swagger, but with a keen American indie influence. Perhaps his opinion was influenced by the fact that their sound is decidedly more ‘rock’ on this occasion than previous times I’ve seen, them, likely on account of the backline / PA setup, resulting in a sound dominated by blistering guitars. But they have actual melodies and a psychedelic hue, and once again, it’s a set that builds in every way – confidence, cohesion, and volume. The final brace of songs is segued together to form a ten-minute melting wall of sound, an epic psych-wig out that’s nothing short of a brain-cleansing blast that leaves you dazed as the final strains of feedback taper away.

Everything about tonight feels like a win. I may have had one more than was wise – easily done when it’s hot because it’s packed and all hand-pulled beers are a fiver and there’s half a dozen to choose from – and I may be a touch emotional at having attended my last live music of my forties – but stepping into the night, I feel like I’ve experienced something life-affirming and positive in the bleakest of times.

8th August 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Unlike Morrissey, I actually like it when my friends become successful, and when people I know – directly or otherwise – through music, go on to make new music that’s not only good, but gets the attention it deserves. And so it is that Strange Pink, an act consisting of local and regional musical luminaries Sam Forrest (formerly of Nine Black Alps, currently of Sewage Farm (who I covered way back in 2017), Eddie Alan Logie, and Dom Smith and, who’s previously played in Mary And The Ram (who have also appeared here), Creature Honey, (and let’s not forget the formidable Parasitic Twins), have been getting airplay from 6Music and Radio X with their first single, ‘Pencil Chewer’.

It’s not hard to grasp why this track has been picked up on: it’s kinda grungy, but also has that Britpop indie energy and a strong sense of melody, and I’m reminded of the time the first EP by Asylums landed on my doormat pretty much the day before they got a track played on Sunday Brunch. There’s no direct correlation or correspondence, of course, but it’s one of those songs that has a particular energy that makes you sit up, prick up your ears and grabs in an instant. It’s a rare event because while the format of pop has moved on to accommodate the era of the short attention span by essentially starting with the chorus and whittling songs down to two and a half minutes of little other than chorus, other genres still persist in incorporating things like intros and verses and bridges. ‘Pencil Chewer’ is a slice of classic 90s indie / alt rock, with hints of The Wedding Present and that fuzzy, lo-fi vibe of Dinosaur Jr circa You’re Living All Over Me or Bug but with breezy Ash-like melody dominating, and then things turn really Pavement in the final third. The delivery is lovely, boisterous, even, and it hits so sweetly as a summer smash that so nearly made it. It’s clear they’ve struck gold with this formula.

But Strange Pink clearly don’t do formula, as listening to this EP evidences this as fact: ‘Wonderland’ is Disintegration era Cure with vintage shoegaze vibes – think early Ride or Chapterhouse, but also The Charlatans at that time. It’s a slice of dreamy, wistful melancholia with a psychedelic hue, and it’s achingly magnificent. Joh n Peel would have been all over it. In contrast, ‘My Friend and You’ drives in hard with thumping drums, murky bass and squalling guitars, landing between The Jesus and Mary Chain and Nirvana. None of this is to say that it’s derivative, but it’s clear that they’re drawing on their influences here. Every band does to a certain extent, but Strange Pink balance appropriation with quality songwriting – and the latter counts for a lot.

‘Boy’s Club’ (also a single) is a killer slacker anthem, and absolutely nails one of the troubles of our time in the opening lines: ‘You don’t have to be such a dick / Just because your daddy thinks that he’s rich / Don’t have to be such a jerk / just because your daddy don’t have to work.’ It succinctly stabs a finger at entitlement and inherited wealth, and the shitty behaviour that almost invariably follows. Fuck that, and fuck that kind of people. But in the hands of Strange Pink, this is a magnificent anthem.

The seven-and-a-half minutes closer, ‘Nowhere’ is truly magnificent, and worthy of the term ‘epic’. It’s a soft, mellow, indie song, marking something of a departure… but departure is good. Strange Pink keep things evolutionary

In 1993 or 1994 this would have had critics frothing and fans clamouring. Now… sadly not so much, although amidst the nu-metal revival, they may be on the cusp of leading a cultural turn here, because ultimately, quality always rises, and it does seem that the long-threatened grunge revival may be happening after all. I hope so. This is the good shit. Get your lugs round it now.

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