Posts Tagged ‘pubs’

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.

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s easy to become complacent about the stream of bad news of endless pub and music venue closures, until it happens on your back door, in a way that directly impacts your social life. It’s been a really bad couple of weeks when it comes to establishments in York: first, we learned that the property owners of The Victoria Vaults have decided to close a pub of 130 years standing in order to flog it off, presumably to be converted into flats, and The Maltings, a city centre pub of national renown, is to be converted to an Irish Bar following the retirement of the previous owners who had run it for over thirty years. This follows on the heels of the revelations that The Roman Bath, another city-centre pub popular for live music, is to be rebranded as a sports bar. And on top of all this, there’s the result of the American election to digest. Right now, I can’t really contemplate, let alone dwell on, this.

We all have our ways of dealing with bad news. Me, I like to immerse myself in the experience of live music. For some, uplifting tunes in the form of buoyant pop or something singalong and anthemic is the remedy. Personally, I simply find joy in the experience, immersing myself in the moment and revelling in music that’s good. The Bricks being dependable, as I’ve reported an almost embarrassing number of times in the last couple of years, meets that criteria.

The fact that tonight’s show is being hosted at Lendal Cellars is also encouraging in the face of the aforementioned bad news about venues. It’s an interesting venue – a remarkable space, really, a city centre pub that’s by the river – and prone to issues with the toilets due to the frequent flooding in York – in a series of fairly low-ceilinged vaulted rooms – cellars, as the name suggests. I used to frequent it often in my early office days, back in the late 90s, but haven’t been in over twenty years, and I’ve never once I attended a gig here. There are reasons for this, one being that I don’t recall the place hosting bands, and another one being that in recent years I’ve been avoiding Greene King establishments on account of their business model when it comes to buying up breweries and shutting them down. I’ve also tended to avoid venturing into the city centre on weekend nights – especially racedays – because as a magnet for stag and hen parties and twats in general, not to mention recent reports of gangs of youths harassing and even attacking random strangers, York city centre has become less appealing as a destination for me. But this is a source of optimism, in that there may be potential for another pub venue, albeit of incredibly limited capacity, to step up and plug a gap.

“It’s very Cavern in here,” says the bleach-blonde with sunbed orange skin and sports gear on her lower half and a red crop-top on her upper, who’s celebrating her birthday and inviting random strangers to guess her age, to her mum as they quaff prosecco during the soundcheck. I suppose it is, and it’s also very incongruous – to the extent that I’m reminded of the night I saw Sunn O))) at The Sage in Gateshead, and was queuing to enter the venue, on the same night an X-Factor performer was performing in the lobby.

I’m here first and foremost for The Bricks. I’m not ashamed to say I absolutely bloody love this band because they’re absolutely brilliant. Having seen them in gig venues on abundant occasions, it’s a test of their mettle to be placed in this setting, and for those out for a regular Saturday bevvy with their mates, decked out in their nicely-ironed shirts and fancy dresses, hearing them is likely to come as a shock. Perhaps not as loud, or, initially, as assured on some previous outings, they’re still solid and hit like a spiky post-punk punch in the face. The band as a whole, are powerful, but Gemma, when she’s singing, at least, is absolutely fucking terrifying. Between songs and offstage, she’s meek, self-effacing, even apologetic, but when she steps onto the songs there’s a switch that flicks and she blasts out every line like a woman possessed. The slower, bluesy stroll of ‘Snake’ afforded the weekenders the opportunity to scurry for the exit without the full assault of the PA on the way out. There are a few sound issues early on, particularly with the mic feeding back and not being loud enough, but by the last couple of songs they really are firing on all cylinders.

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The Bricks

This leaves me pondering between sets over the crisis facing live music at a grassroots level, startup acts and even those who have been going a while but are very much pub and small-venue circuit acts. As the number of dedicated grassroots venues diminishes, perhaps this is the future: to put live music right there in people’s unsuspecting faces. A lot will shit themselves and leave, but perhaps enough, after a few drinks, will come to appreciate hearing – and seeing – something different.

My contemplations are curtailed by the arrival of DDK Soundsystem. If The Bricks revived the spirit of the early 80s, DDK’s take on dance rock is unapologetically rooted in the 90s. They are, ultimately, a covers band, but they’re a lot of fun.

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DDK Soundsystem

They kick off with a stomping rendition of ‘Open Your Mind’ by U.S.U.R.A., and in some respects, the treatment isn’t a million miles off Utah Saints, in that they present as much as a rock act as a dance act, and fuse the elements together: there are live vocals and guitar and bass, samples and backing tracks and sequenced drums all firing in synchronicity. Sure, there’s an element of middle-aged men doing rock posturing to dance tunes and some mum-disco 90s dance vibes, but they’re clearly enjoying themselves, and it is all well done.

Mid-set they really rock out, sending more lanky bozos with bumfluff moustaches and fake eyesh-sporting girls scurrying for the door. It’s at this point the gig hits proper volume, too. There’s no chatting idly over this. Overdriven, flanged guitars – and it’s been too long since I heard such epic swirling flange – blast out on a storming cover of Kylie’s ‘Can’t Get You Out of My Head’, before they drop ‘Encore d’un Fois’, a song I’d forgotten about, but an undeniable banger, and ‘Hey Boy, Hey Girl’ also lands near the end of the set. While one could readily contend that it’s corny and cheesier than a bowl of nachos, it’s also massive fun.

Saliva Birds were solid when I caught them low on the bill at an all-dayer back in April last year, and they’re solid again on this outing, turning out a set of sturdy, kick-ass US-style rock ‘n’ roll. The guitarist, in baseball cap, plaid flannel shirt, and faded blue jeans encapsulates their sound visually. It’s hard to get really excited about them, given that there have been band around sounding like this for at least the last thirty years, and they don’t really bring anything new, but to describe them as ‘workmanlike’ is by no means a criticism. They’re good at what they do, and they didn’t clear the room.

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Saliva Birds

And if an eclectic lineup like this can keep enough punters unaccustomed to live music that isn’t straight covers or tribute acts, then perhaps there’s some mileage in shows like this. It seems like a back-to-basics approach, like how in the 70s and 80s bands used to play working men’s clubs and club nights to audiences who weren’t fussed at best, and were more into playing pool and getting booze down their necks than anything else. But given the choice between jostling with baffled townies slopping their lager and cocktails to see bands, and not seeing bands because there are no bands playing anywhere, I know what I’d pick every time.