Posts Tagged ‘spiky’

28th November 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve been bigging up The Bricks for some time now, and I would count myself as a fan from the moment they snared me with their early doors set in January 2022 opening for The Kut and Healthy Junkies.

They’ve always been pretty swift at getting their material recorded, with a four-track demo laid down in the summer of 2021 containing the songs that provided the basis for their early sets. Since then, while ‘Picket Fence’ has largely remained a well-deserved feature of the set, they’ve been busy with new material, with the five-track Reverse Alchemy EP landing in February 2023, and now, with six new cuts, Modern Mirror is their most expansive, and perhaps definitive, statement yet.

It’s clear from their live shows that there’s a musical chemistry between the four of them, but equally, the tightness they demonstrate is the kind that comes from disciplined rehearsal. The fact that they got these six tracks done – even though they are succinct, with only ‘Snake’ exceeding three minutes – in two days is a fair indication of their proficiency. This is particularly important for a band who are strong live, because the challenge is capturing the essence, and the energy of the live sound in the studio. So many solid live acts make a hash of things in the studio, going either one of two ways – either they’ll polish the songs to within an inch of their lives, slicken things off with production to the point that they sound flat and lifeless, or they’ll simply fail to convey the live experience with rushed, muddy recordings that fail to do justice.

Here, the production is just right for the band: with a sound that’s from the heart of the gothier end of late punk – think early Siouxie, Skeletal Family, but also with more overtly punk leanings at times – theirs is the sound of 1979-81, and where so many contemporary exponents go wrong is applying 21st century production values in the studio. So here, we have songs which are fiery, choppy, edgy, and the recordings convey the energy and the raw dynamism, but without sounding rough.

The title track is a solid opener, with an intro that builds, and builds, and builds, then everything bursts into life, a chunky bass groove bursting with nifty runs sits tightly with the uncomplicated drumming and come together to provide a solid backdrop to Gemma’s commanding, full-lunged vocals. ‘What’s real? Does it matter?’ she roars.

It’s another snaking bassline swerving around thundering drums which provides the backbone of ‘A Lie’, where the guitars switch from choppy stutters to full-on thrashabout and it’s all over in under two minutes, a powerful short, sharp shock.

‘Snake’ has become a feature of the set as the slower mid-set breather, and it presents something of a more soulful side – as well as the opportunity for a guitar solo. It feels as if they’ve made the most of the slower tempo to explore more broadly, and it works well. It’s also catchy – in that the chorus grabs you by the balls and squeezes, but not too hard.

There’s almost a psychobilly feel to the full-throttle ‘Contraption’, with its sneering punky putdown, ‘Nice try, you’re boring / Nice try, I’m yawning’.

Lyrically, The Bricks always achieve more with less, with snappy, declarative couplets consisting of the fewest words possible and uncomplicated but effective rhymes. And so it is that the EP closes with ‘Meantime’, another songs that’s well-established and road-tested. ‘Trickle trickle… you’re so fickle’ may well not be TS Elliot or Milton, but it’s all in the delivery, and to hear Gemma belting out the dismissive flick of ‘fickle! FOOL!’ with her immensely commanding voice is enough to wither even the most cocksure and arrogant of bastards. With Guy’s magnificent weaving guitar-line and rock-solid rhythm section, it’s a powerful finale.

The Bricks have always been great, but they’ve never sounded more solid, or more confident than here.

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Human Worth – 20th July 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Exciting times always abound with Human Worth, and while the summer has up to now been a truly dismal washout, and it’s hard not to be sceptical about the hype around an imminent heatwave in a couple of weeks, July is almost guaranteed to be a scorcher in the environs of our favourite boutique London Label, with an album from Brighton supergroup Pascagoula, and this, the debut long player from Newcastle electro-disco-riot noisemakers Fashion Tips. The fact that the initial run of fifty ‘vibrant’ pink cassettes sold out in forty-eight hours, leading to an immediate second batch, indicates the level of buzz around this band – one might even say they’re pretty hot right now, and it’s not hard to understand why.

They only coalesced in late 2022, with the founding members of bass player Liam Slack and guitarist Jorden Sayer subsequently being joined by Esme Louise Newman who had established a name for herself with black metal duo Penance Stare. Fashion Tips signify quite a departure for her, but she seems well-suited and to be enjoying the change of style – pardon the pun. With opening slots for the mighty Mclusky and a tour with cult Leeds wonky noisemongers Thank, not to mention a well-received (and not just by us) debut EP.

For I Wish You Every Success, they’ve managed to get Anthony Chapman (Collapsed Lung, Mclusky, Bis, Skinned Teen) to work production duties – and a fine job he’s done, too.

The title may be a little less stunned – and stunning – than predecessor Fucking Hell, but is interesting and amusing, given that it’s a phrase you most commonly encounter on leaving cards or other notes of departure. One has to hope that this is knowingly ironic, given that the Tips (as at some point they should come to be known by an ardent and substantial fanbase) are very much still warming up here.

The album’s eight songs are cumulatively impactful, a sharp-edged, pointy-cornered assault of back-and-forth oscillating synths and thudding beats dominated by booming basslines which often threaten to submerge the abrasive, antagonistic vocals, which swing between sneer and squawk. ‘Radio Song’ – a song designed for the moshpit rather than the radio – is thee perfect opener, a raw blast of antagonism, a sonic middle finger to pretty much everything, and at the same time. That Bikini Kill have recently made a powerful and triumphant return suggests that now is the time for a riot grrrl revival after everything lese has been trawled over, but it’s the stabbing electronics and hard-edged synths which render Fashion Tips quite distinct.

‘The Lovers’ emerges in a blast of noise and locks into a frenetic groove before going wild disco, and it’s a proper hard slap around the face, electropunk cranked up to eleven.

They pack three songs’ worth of ideas into each composition, the majority of which clock in at around three minutes. It crackles and fizzes and bends the brain. Buzzing, bleeping, pumping single cut ‘Don’t Call Me’ is entirely representative of the blistering attack that I Wish You Every Success delivers. Hyped-up and hyperactive, it leaves you dizzy, dazed, punchdrunk even before the bratty drum ‘n’ bass blast of ‘Steve Lamaq’ crashes in and absolutely slays with two minutes of pure frenzy.

Grinding bass and laser-like blasts dominate the hi-NRG punk attack of ‘Hot Problems’, and Fashion Tips pack ‘em in tight and hard. There is quite literally no respite, not a moment to regain breath while listening to I Wish You Every Success, and you’re moshing in your head to some utterly punishing riffs.

Fashion Tips are the band we need right now. They are all the energy, and I Wish You Every Success is a massive rush from beginning to end.

They’ll probably be onto the third pressing by the time you read this. I certainly hope so. There ought to be a CD and vinyl edition, too. And, simply, taking quality to the next level, this album needs to be everywhere. I really do wish them every success – because they deserve it. And not in the leaving card sense.

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Portland post-punk alt-rockers SKY LIONS presents ‘Werewolves’, a wild offering from their debut album Inside The Circle. The duo is made up of Radio Sloan and Outer Stace, who over the years have performed with or as a part of Courtney Love’s band, Peaches’ band, Le Tigre, The Need, Time Bitch and Photona.

Sky Lions’ musical collaboration began in childhood, before they were aware of any rules. Outer Stace says, “’Werewolves’, in part, is about the idea of shifting from our outer selves to our inner selves, the fleeting peace that can bring; transformation and adaptation… So, the art direction possibilities were pretty endless. It was a lot of fun to create the different versions of ourselves that we could be.”

Watch the video here:

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“It’s like a metamorphic reality of death and the future. It feels like things we’ve seen,” says Radio Sloan. “Our sound is that of accepting existence for all its flaws. Sky Lions has a darkness that isn’t entirely heavy metal, post-punk or darkwave. Rather, it’s a culmination of who we have been, who we currently are, and how we interpret the world around us. Moving within that world is the core of our musical expression.”

From early days experimenting with instruments to their evolution into Sky Lions, they’ve carved a niche where innovation, music, feminism, Trans/queer identity and horror come together. Sky Lions weaves together the threads of life’s absurdity, unquestionable magic and tragedy. Their trans / queer / feminist lens adds a relatability of lives lived and times to come, creating an immersive sonic journey that challenges the mind and ears. Through genre-blurring compositions and evocative lyrics, they hope to channel their ethos into a call for transformation! They hope that their songs challenge stereotypes, and ignite conversation.

Sky Lions

Christopher Nosnibor

It’s sometimes – often – difficult to balance objectivity with subjectivity when it comes to writing about music. We don’t experience music or relative to it objectively, so to critique it objectively is to strip out what really matters. What does it matter how technically competent an act is if they don’t touch you in some way? No, not like that…

This is even more so the case when it comes to experiencing music live. Yes, a weak performance or poor sound can ruin a night, but equally, some nights are amazing however rough the sound and however ropey the playing. The experience is a holistic thing which is the coalescence of multitudinous factors.

And because the experience is unique and personal, ultimately, I can only speak from a personal perspective and write from a personal context. The context for tonight’s outing is that this is my first time listening to live music since mid-December, and the last three months or so have been tough. I’m out of the habit, and you realise just how quickly you can lose levels of comfort and confidence – as we learned during lockdown.

Sitting in a dark corner with a pint of Brass Castle Misfit with The Fall, Killing Joke, and Iggy Pop blasting over the PA felt good. The people started arriving, and one reason I felt ok about coming down is because it’s very much a local bands, local people event, and this is where local scenes and grassroots venues really do prove their worth: the sense of community and simply feeling safe and comfortable is not something that can ever bee said of bigger places. You just don’t run into people at an O2, have a blether and get a round in, and you sure as hell won’t get decent hand-pulled pints in a glass for £4.40.

Captain Starlet I’d been informed were young but really good. Their set exploded with some high-octane hillbilly shit that perhaps wasn’t so good. Technically, yes, but… Things improved, though, and swiftly. ‘Love is a Pet’ has a nice, dark, strolling bassline and lands between post-punk and country. With 60s vocal harmonies, hints of The Kinks and a whole lot of jangle in the mix, they really can play. I’m just not quite sure what they’re about or if they’ve even decided for themselves yet. The guitarist and bassist look like they’re a different band from the second guitarist and drummer, but credit where it’s due, they’re tight and together, but they’re just not my bag.

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Captain Starlet

The Bricks are one hundred percent my bag and half the reason I’m here. They are solid as ever, channelling Siouxsie and X-Mal Deutschland. And they’re seriously loud, and it suits them well. Between songs, Gemma Hartshorn is affable and unashamedly Northern and flogging bananas (with EP download codes attached since they’re launching their Reverse Alchemy EP, which is absolutely bloody great and you need to hear it) but when singing she’s intense and absolutely fucking terrifying, staring out the crowd as she belts the lyrics full lung. The new songs are ace and tonight demonstrates all the reasons why they’re my favourite active York band right now. During the last song some retiree in a massive jumper made her way to the front to dance six inches in front of me and remind me why I always wear steel-toed boots.

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The Bricks

There probably isn’t much to say about Percy I haven’t said several times before since I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve written about them, and I’ve seen them even more. To describe them as workmanlike is no criticism here: you know what you’re going to get: grouchy northern post-punk racket from Yorkshire’s answer to The Fall.

Tonight, Percy are sounding dense, tight, and full of piss and vinegar for their first headlining slot of the year. Colin’s guitar is nearly in tune for most of the set as they blast through songs from way back and as yet unreleased. Unashamedly northern and uncompromising in their angularity and attitude, there’s nothing fancy here but it’s delivered with zeal and petulance – the musical equivalent of pie and mash served up piping hot. They only have three effects pedals between them. There’s something to be said for a band that have touched on bigger things in the past who are content playing small local venues and not giving a fuck and simply enjoying making a racket twenty years into their career. ‘Will of the People’ is pure vitriol and it’s magic.

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Percy

They resurrect the plodding ‘Seaside Donkey’ as the penultimate track before ploughing through a blistering rendition of ‘Chunks’ to close.

I’ve had perhaps a pint more than I ought and despite earplugs, by ears are fizzing, and you know what? It’s all good – great, even. This is what live music is all about.