It’s a decent lineup and a pleasant evening. I’m down early doors and sitting with a pint of Vocation Heart & Soul listening to Slint and Drop Ninteens and Boris over the PA, and wondering where the fuck is everyone? It does seem to be a thing now, particularly at certain venues, where people will be outside the room until the band starts, and spend the time between acts outside, whether it be the bar or beer garden, as well. On a personal level, there are positives to this: it means I can make notes and sup in relative peace, and maintain a decent spot near the front, but it does seem a bit odd to see barely a handful of people around and a near-deserted bar, and with the number of people in the room barely touching double figures when the first act is due on, it feels like something’s amiss.
Still, Danny Barton’s a seasoned pro, and he’ll play to five people or five hundred without there being any difference in his performance. It seems like some time since he’s has been out as Wolf Solent, having been doing Sewage Farm stuff with Sam Forrest (Nine Black Alps) in recent months. They’re the kings of anti-promo, announcing the release of their new album by stating that they’re ‘deeply ashamed to announce that fuck it is our fifth and worst album yet. It’s out on 24 april as limited edition CD and all forms of digital garbage.’ For the record, Fuck It is brilliant. It’s still infinitely more promo than he gives Wolf Solent, and his solo work is a very different proposition from the roaring rock ‘n’ roll of Sewage Farm, which very much has all the hallmarks of a bedroom-based project – low-key, lo-fi slowcore with pedals, sequenced backing and drum machine. Switching his acoustic guitar for an electroacoustic 12-string, he conjures a swirling drone by way of a backdrop to his drawling vocals, delivered while hiding behind beard and hair.
Wolf Solent
Speedreaders have often been represented by Dave Mudie performing solo on recent outings, meaning it’s been a while since I’ve caught a full-band set (my records indicate it was July last year, when they supported Needlework, and went on before Divorce Finance, who I’m still angry about. I know, I need to get over it, but fuck me. Anyway, Speedreaders. They’re consistent, they’re tight, they’re a quality act. There’s not much movement in terms of their set list, and no new material, but what they have is performed with assurance. They’re not a chatty band, and, on discovering Dave’s left his capo in the dressing room, there’s a protracted – and very quiet – pause. There’s considerable air between the notes during their slow, introspective, sad songs. They pick up the tempo for the final song, ‘Down Round’, which is a bit Wedding Present circa Bizarro, and ends abruptly and precisely on time.
Speedreaders
Brighton’s Glasshouse Red Spider Mite are making their first trip to York, and they don’t seem too distraught to be playing to around twenty-five people: quite the opposite, in fact. They seem pretty chuffed that there is an audience, and an enthusiastic and supportive one at that, and for those still present (it has thinned rather after the local supports), they turn in a solid and dynamic set, delivered with energy and enthusiasm. It starts with a cacophonous samplefest, and there’s dialogue and narrative about spiders / mites spun between almost every song.
The liberal use of samples is reminiscent of Maybeshewill, although Glasshouse Red Spider Mite have vocals. Their overall sound straddles post-rock and shoegaze. Tonight’s set presents a band which has evolved significantly since their debut EP, and this could not be rendered with greater clarity than when they delve back to play ‘Everyone Loves You’ from What Do You Mean The Monster?… Hahaha… released in May of last year, and the new song which follows, which is a driving 90s-flavoured blast of energy that hints and Ride and Loop.
Glasshouse Red Spider Mite
Comparing tonight’s performance with their recorded output to date suggests that Glasshouse Red Spider Mite are a band at a crossroads, and in the midst of a giant evolutionary leap. They sound absolutely fantastic, and seem like a band with a lot to give.
Time will tell, of course, but heading home in a heavy autumnal drizzle, it felt like this was one of those ‘I saw this band before they got big playing to barely any people’ moments. My mate always loves to tell me how we saw Editors at Fibbers in York play to three men and a dog before their debut album, and I saw The Young Gods play to barely more than that when touring Super Ready (and they were fucking incredible). Glasshouse Red Spider Mite have it all, and look and sound like they have the potential captivate a substantial crowd at The Brudenell. And if there’s any justice, in their next tour, they will.
