Posts Tagged ‘The Fulford Arms’

Moose Knuckle / Perennial / JUKU – The Fulford Arms, York, 11th December 2024

Posted: 12 December 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

My review of JUKU’s debut, at a Sunday matinee show last summer, continues to receive significant hits, and while they have played only a limited number of shows in the interim, it seems their reputation has been growing without their needing to take to the stage. It does mean that, personally, I’m keen to see them whenever the rare opportunity arises, and April seems like a long time ago.

They don’t disappoint: this is one tight, loud, band, and they pack the songs in back to back, no chat, no pissing about tuning up, no stalling to mop brows or regain breath. There isn’t a weak song in their half-hour set, but there are some standouts: ‘Pressure’ has the gritty drive of Motorhead and ‘No Fun’ is, actually, much fun. The set packs riffs and hooks like The Ramones on steroids… the lead guitarist is understated, focused, while on the other side of the stage, Dan is going ballistic, stomping and thrashing every ounce from his guitar like a man possessed. Sonically, they create contrast, too, with crisp, twangy tones cut through the huge, distorted roar blasting from Dan’s amp. They’re practically faultless, and the set ends in a ragged howl of feedback.

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JUKU

When the opening act is this strong, it’s a guaranteed good night either way: the rest of the acts are going to have to be bloody good to top them, in which case you’ve got a run of belters, or if they don’t match up, you can go home early knowing you’ve seen the best band of the night by getting down early. Tonight proves to be a bit of both.

New England trio Perennial – comprising guitar, synth, and drums, with dual vocals, are here on their first UK tour in support their third album, Art History, released over here by York-based label Safe Suburban Home Records. Sporting matching striped tops, they look vaguely nerdy, and unless you’ve heard or seen them before, nothing can quite prepare you for their wild stage act. Chelsea (keyboards, vocals) windmills and bounces all over, hyper as hell, and Chad Jewett, who’s a big fella, is a blur of movement, jumping and lurching and hurling himself and his guitar around, almost toppling his cabs just a couple of songs in. They positively crackle with energy, and are clearly absolutely loving every second of what is a remarkably well-conceived and structured set. They play US punk rock – or ‘modernist punk’ as they call it – with wit, and a keen sense of humour, delivering entertainment amped to the max. They clearly had a fair few fans in, and there was some exuberant dancing down the front. Definitely one of those bands that, if you get the chance, you should see.

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Perennial

Moose Knuckle showcase a solid sound, and some swagger, but the bar has been set incredibly high. They don’t have nearly as much energy as either of the two previous acts (although more every than Perennial would probably cause a power cut across the entire city), and they’re simply not quite loud enough or otherwise sonically powerful to get away with such a static performance. On another night, or had the bill been reversed, they’d have been decent enough, but they’re very much a meat and two veg rendition of punk, with most of the songs’ lyrics involving the repetition of a single line about forty times. And they’re not exactly inspired lines, either: ‘I need my dope, dope, dope, dope, dope,’ and ‘Dead! Beat! Daddy!’ is about the level of lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality, the level of the lyrical quality.

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Moose Knuckle

Starting the set by calling everyone forward, only for them to all have to step back again to make way for the videographer prowling back and forth the full width of the stage a t least twice every song kinda backfired a bit, too.

Ultimately, there was nothing really ban about their set, it just lacked inspiration and energy in contrast to the previous acts.

The format of the night worked well, though: three bands, half an hour each, fifteen-minute interludes, 10:20 finish. Bish, bash, bosh. Perfect for midweek, and y’know, two outta three ain’t bad.

Heartsink / Bug Facer / Wench! – The Fulford Arms, York, 21st November 2024

Posted: 22 November 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Hull has produced some impressive bands – especially at the noisier end of the spectrum –in recent years, with Cannibal Animal, Bedsit, and Ketamine Kow being particular standouts, but not to forget BDRMM, Chambers, or Low Hummer. It’s always a treat when they send a contingent to York. Warren Records have established some sort of exchange programme with The Fulford Arms, offering some quality lineups for little or no money – as is the case tonight, thanks to the support of a well-deserved arts grant for the label. Turnouts tend to be decent, too, with an unusual ratio of travelling fans from that spot just north of the Humber.

Having raved about Bug Facer’s releases, there was no way I was going to pass upon the opportunity to see them live, and there’s a growing buzz around Wench! too.

It’s immediately apparent that the buzz is more than justified. Wow. Fuck me. Wench! are phenomenal. An all-female power-trio with the emphasis on power, they play proper punk, and play loud and hard, and they’re as tight as they are fierce. It’s drummer Kit Blight who covers the majority of the vocals, and the vocals re strong, all while blasting beats at a hundred miles an hour. Bassist Hebe Gabel, a headbanging blur of spikes and studs is a dominant physical presence on stage, and steps in with some super-heavy wah-wah loaded lead breaks which owe more to stoner rock than punk. The interplay between the three is magnificent: each brings a different style of musicianship and performance to the stage, and they are one hundred percent complimentary. This may only be their second gig outside of Hull, but shows like this are almost certain to get them bookings – and fans – racking up fast.

When you read about how grassroots venues are vital for feeding the upward chain, and you realise you’re watching a band with the potential to join the ranks of Dream Wife and Amyl And The Sniffers a few years hence, the narrative takes on a powerful resonance.

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Wench!

Bug Facer’s studio work is a blinding cacophony. Live, they’re something else, a brain-melting, eardrum-punishing, feedback-shredding squall of filthy chaos. The vocals are shared between the drummer and bassist – who is also, it turns out, guitarist, to add to the confusion.

They look like they sound, and sound like they look: the bassist is a burly guy with tattoos and a Meshuggah T-shirt; the bassist looks like he’s travelled in time from 1974, sporting an orange Adidas T-Shirt, flared cords and long hair with a home-cut fringe; meanwhile, the drummer wears comfort-fit faded jeans and a comedic cast T-shirt. You never saw such a bunch of misfits, and it translates directly into the music – perhaps more accurately described as a blast of sonic mayhem.

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Bug Facer

Driving rhythms underpin a wild tempest of discord and noise. They boast the crunchiest ribcage-rattling bass and a wall of guitar noise that sounds like war. The vocals are an array of shouts and grunts and monotone spoken word mumblings and psychotic screams. More than once, the bassist and guitarist swap instruments.

They don’t say much. “Is this in tune? It’s close enough” is representative of both the bantz and the approach to performing. It’s not punk, it’s not post-punk, it’s not sludge, or stoner, or anything really; but it contains elements of all of the aforementioned, and they play like they want you to hate them and getting the biggest kick out of being as sonically challenging as they can muster. Ragged, raw, and absolutely wild, it’s one hell of a set.

Credit to Heartsink for being on this bill and willing to follow Bug Facer, with whom they’ve shared a stage previously. It’s certainly a brave move – or an example of insanity.

The last time I – knowingly – saw them was when I caught the tail-end of a set at The Key Club in Leeds in 2018. Six years is certainly time enough to evolve. But punk-pop doesn’t really evolve, and exists in a state of arrested development, just as it always did, when, on breaking in the early 00s, middle-aged men would sing songs about being in school and having crushes on their classmates, or their teachers, or their classmates’ mums.

“Is anyone a fan of the US Office?” In this question, we get a measure of both the quality of the chat, and the inspiration behind their songs. I’m not entirely convinced it counts as evolution.

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Heartsink

Credit where it’s due: they are undeniably solid, energetic, the songs are catchy, and they’re clearly enjoying themselves. People down the front are enjoying them, too. They’re co-ordinated with matching rainbow guitar straps… and trainers, and beards. They do bring some big riffy breakdowns in places, and the melodies are keen. But… but…ultimately, it’s generic and bland. And pop-punk. There’s clearly an eternal market for this, and fair play, especially as, what they’ve ultimately achieved is to get people out and dancing to original (‘original’) songs at a grassroots venue on the coldest November night in a decade. When venues around the country are disappearing by the week, and the ones we have are hosting tribute acts five nights a week, having the option to view three solid quality bands – two of whom are absolutely out there, albeit in very different ways – for no quids is something to shout about.

The Royal Ritual / Neon Fields / Material Goods – The Fulford Arms, York, 24th July 2024

Posted: 27 July 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Being restricted to live shows within walking distance of one’s house really does change one’s perspective and selections. As much as it also significantly limits my options, I’m fortunate to have no fewer than three venues within this range, and spotting that The Royal Ritual – a band I’ve long been aware of but have never witnessed live – were playing at one of them provided more than enough of a poke to get out.

It’s not exactly heaving. That is to say, come 8:15, it’s still pretty quiet, even for a Wednesday night. But then, I noticed that York was conspicuously quiet all day today: driving almost empty roads to a near-dead Tesco was as welcome as it was strange earlier in the day. The first week of the school summer holidays, and it seems everyone has buggered off – apart from the tourists clogging the town centre, which was far from quiet in the afternoon. But tourists tend not to seek out relatively unknown alternative bands playing a mile or two out of town. They should. Live music is as integral to a city’s nightlife as its pubs and bars and so on. I once ditched a conference dinner in favour of a gig when visiting Stirling, having clocked that maybeshewill were playing, and in the process, discovered And So I Watch You from Afar, who absolutely blew me away, plus I got to explore a new venue. It was a memorable event, and one which has stuck with me. It’s unlikely the alternative would have had quite the same impact – and while I’ll never know, as someone who’s uncomfortable dining with strangers and making small talk, I’m as comfortable with my choice now as then.

Comfortable isn’t really my default, and caving crawled out of my bunker, this is an evening I’m quite content to hide in a dark corner with a pint and observe.

Material Goods are a last-minute replacement for Dramalove. It’s a solid, blank name which suits the duo’s style, which comprises some heavy, complex synth work paired with live percussion – and quite outstanding live percussion at that. The processed vocals are a bit muffled, but overall, the sound is dark and dense and the drums really cut through it with energy and force. Essentially, their palette is 90s alt rock, a bit NIN but with a vague dash of nu metal, and a bit Filter, too. Multitasking and a vast amount of gear affords the singer limited scope for movement on stage, but the sound has a really good, strong energy, despite the songs being pretty downtempo and downbeat.

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Material Goods

With Material Goods overrunning and Neon Fields also possessing an immense amount of flash-looking tech which needed setting up, we’re fifteen minutes behind time when they take to the stage. Sonically, they’re astonishing. Playing a hundred-and-twenty-five-capacity pub venue, they sound like half a million quid’s worth of gear in an arena. And the songs match it. They sound like they look: black clad, tattoo bands, neatly-trimmed beards, big, soaring emotional outpourings… And completely lacking in soul. Christ, this guy’s level of emotional trauma is enough to raise the blood pressure to induce a heart attack. Wracked with anguish and all of the pain of the lovelorn, the love-torn… And yet it’s all articulated so blandly, everything is so slick, and so one-level. The theatre soon wears thin, and I start to forget I’m listening to it while I’m listening to it. It doesn’t help that there’s a group of four people bang in front of me gabbing on and pricking around, pulling faces, play-fighting, the guys trying to impress the birds by demonstrating their strength by lifting one another up… they get shushed by a fan but even the absence of their distraction doesn’t really improve the experience. There’s some earnest, meaningful falsetto, and the penultimate song had some cliché tribal drumming, and they wrapped up their bombastic set ten minutes after the headliner was due on.

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Neon Fields

The Royal Ritual are also a duo who have an extremely ‘produced’ sound. But their approach to production owes more to the methods of Trent Reznor as pioneered in the early 90s on Broken and The Downward Spiral, balancing gritty live guitars with synths and fucked-up distortion and harnessing their tempestuousness in a way that creates a balanced yet abrasive sound. David Lawrie plays live electronic drum pads in addition to the sequenced beats, adding dynamics and live energy to proceedings, and flitting between the drum pads, synths, and mic stand, he’s incredibly busy throughout the set. But something about Lawrie’s delivery highlights everything that was absent on Neon Fields, and just carries so much more weight: the whole package brings a rush of adrenaline propelled by that emotional heft and solid force.

Objectively, the feel is very Stabbing Westward, and goes hard NIN at times in its combination of guitar, synths, and sequenced and live electronic drums. The Royal Ritual are strong on dynamics and atmosphere, and Lawrie is an intense and compelling performer.

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The Royal Ritual

He does break out of the moody persona to thank other bands and plug merch, but what do you do? In the current climate, bands sadly need to plug the stall. The fact that David steps out of broody tortured soul for two minutes of affable chap may seem hard to reconcile, but then, this perhaps speaks more of the human condition than remaining ‘in character’; people are complex and conflicted, multifaceted and inconsistent. And this is what truly lies as the heart of tonight’s performance by The Royal Ritual. Digging deep into the complexities of the psyche, there’s something about the duo’s performance that gouges into the flesh and demands contemplation.

Glitchers / Eville / The Strand / Averno – The Fulford Arms, York, 20th May 2024

Posted: 22 May 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Just the other night I was talking with someone about how sad it is that so many venues only manage to keep afloat by packing their bookings out with tribute acts. I do appreciate and understand the popularity of tribute acts: people like to hear songs they know while having a drink and a dance, and more often than not, the original artist is either no more, or only plays stadiums every six years with tickets costing over a hundred quid. But the proliferation of tributes, especially to acts still touring, feels so, so wrong: sure, the quality of musicianship required to be a tribute is high, but these are acts who make more off the work of an established act than original artists – and how do the original artists reach an audience when they’re struggling to push their way into view? And as for the acts who are defunct or deceased? Get over it. You missed them – or were lucky and saw them – move on, go and discover some contemporary acts. So, the public gets what the public wants, but for fuck’s sake, if only the public would open its eyes and ears and broaden its horizons beyond all that sale nostalgia shit. There are SO many outstanding artists around right now in every field, every genre – artists who would likely get their own tribute acts in tent, twenty years time, if people even knew that they existed.

Glitchers are a band who really will go to the furthest extreme to make people aware that they exist. While I’ve slated a few busking bands in the past – and rightly so, because the likes of King No-One and the all-time apex of shitness, Glass Caves are the kind of ‘band’ who busk because no-one in their right mind would book them, at least until they’ve built a ‘following’ by their street gigs. Glitchers are a very different proposition. It’s all about intent, about purpose. Glitchers’ busks are an act of protest as much as they’re vehicles of promotion, and they tell us tonight that no number of viral videos of police moving in to suit down their street performances boost their sales. So, to many, police shutdown efforts are amusing evidence of heavy-handed law enforcement (or something to celebrate if you’re a right-wing tosser), but the music gets overlooked. It’s a shame, because right now, we need voices of dissent to be heard while the government tramples and silences the already downtrodden who dare to speak out. And Glitchers don’t just speak out but scream rabidly about issues.

They’ve got a nice – and diverse – bill of bands supporting them tonight, starting with a couple of local bands before current touring support Eville, who are no strangers to the pages of Aural Aggravation, the initial reason I clocked this event and decided I should get down. After all, it’s not every day a band hauls its way up from Brighton to play a support slot at a £5 entry gig in York on a Monday night.

Averno look young even for a university band, but you have to admire their commitment, prioritising playing tonight over revision. I’ve always maintained that the social education and opportunities university provides are worth as much as the degree, and while they’re a bit rough in places, with some fairy ramshackle guitar work throughout, they showcase some decent original songs and a grungy punk energy. ‘Need’ is slow and lugubrious and after a hesitant start builds into a heavy, sludgy beast of a tune, and ‘Make Room’ is a bona fide banger. Unexpectedly, things got more indie and poppy as the set went on, but while delving into more personal territory, their confidence seemed to grow and they were good to watch.

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Averno

The Strand are another uni band, but honed and with a strong style and identity. Their sound is rooted in original 70s punk but with a modern spin and an arty edge, a bit Wire, a bit Adverts, a bit Iggy Pop – although their song about being bored isn’t an Iggy cover. It is, however, a top tune. Front man Evan Greaves bounces around on the spot a lot as they crank out three and four-chord stomps, and I find myself unexpectedly moved by their cover of Nirvana’s ‘Aneurysm’, even though they mangled the start rather – it so happens to be a favourite song of mine and they really give it some. It’s also quite heartening to witness bands playing the songs I was into when I was their age. It’s also impressive to witness their stand-in drummer – an immensely hard-hitter, she powers through the set with finesse, and everything just gels in this confident performance.

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The Strand

Talking of confidence, Eville simply ooze it. It’s clear from the second they take the stage that they’re going to perform like they’re headlining an O2 arena, whether they’re playing to 25 people of 2,500. They’ve got the tunes and the chops for the latter, that’s for sure.

Recent single ‘Monster’ lands as the second track and is the perfect showcase of their sound, blending monumentally weighty riffage, melody, and cross-genre details, with drum ‘b’ bass drums reminiscent of Pitch Shifter paired with a hefty chug of guitar and five-string bass in unison.

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Eville

Ditching the guitar after a few songs, Eva stalks and prowls the stage, and she’s got real presence, strong, assertive. And fuck me, they actually did it: they called for a moshpit and got the entire room going nuts. Blasting is with ‘Leech’, they sustain the intensity, with one fan crashing over the monitors and onto the stage not once but twice. They close with ‘Messy’, and it’s fair to say that they’ve delivered a set that’s all killer here, and there can be no doubt that they’ve won some new fans tonight.

Glitchers bring manic energy and a ton of gaffer tape. And knee pads. Even the knee pads have tape on. This is a band who simply cannot be contained. They don’t just play songs: they’re a full-on spectacle. Few bands go this all-out, and even fewer manage to pull it off: Arrows of Love and Baby Godzilla are the only names which make it to my extremely short list of bands this deranged, this wild, this intense in bringing unbridled mania to songs which explode in howls of feedback. I say songs, but they’re perhaps more accurately described as screaming sonic whirlwinds, industrial-strength punk with a dash of Butthole Surfers mania. This guy is all over the stage and everywhere all at once.

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Glitchers

They blitz their cover of ‘Helter Skelter’, and follow it with new single ‘Grow Up’, a song about toxic masculinity. It would be easy to poke fun at their being ‘right on’, but they’re on point and on topic every time, and they’re on the right side. Their anti-capitalist stance extends to their costs-only ticket pricing policy, and it’s obvious that they mean it, man. They also come across as being decent human beings. They’re a rare breed, it seems. And they’re simply a great band and wholly unforgettable live.

First and foremost, you go to see bands play life to be entertained. Tonight brought entertainment to the MAX. And all for a fiver. Grassroots forever! But also, don’t be surprised to see any of these guys in bigger venues in time.

Vaquelin / Bedsit / Tom Sheldon / Candid Faces –The Fulford Arms, 2nd March 2024

Posted: 3 March 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, and again, and again: grassroots is where it’s at. You need proof? Tonight is exemplary, with four acts for six quid. That’s less than the price of a pint at an arena gig where you’re a quarter of a mile from the stage and might as well watch it on TV, and probably are looking at the screens more than the stage. People are complaining all over the Internet about insane ticket prices and how they’re unaffordable, and yet, at the same time, these massive shows are selling out, so people are clearly stumping up for them in their tens of thousands. Something is very wrong. The acts selling out these arena and stadium shows are, more often than not, heritage acts, or otherwise the current hot thing. But these are in finite supply. What, or who is next? Who’s in the pipeline? You think The Last Dinner Party will be headlining London’s 20,000 capacity O2 Arena, the 21,000 Manchester Arena or Leeds’ First Direct Arena (Capacity 13,781) anytime soon, or in ten, fifteen, twenty yeas time?

I saw Deep Purple supported by Blue Oyster Cult at Leeds First Direct a bit back, and it was one of the most soulless experiences imaginable, and that’s before we get to the embarrassment of the ageing headliners puffing and wheezing their way through a set that dragged out an hour’s worth of songs past an hour and a half with solos to pad things out. I sat, seeing the bands creaking around like ants on a stage bigger than a five-a-side pitch and mostly watched the LCD screens. It was so sterile, so lacking in buzz. It reminded me why I enjoy small gigs so much.

I’ve arrived a few minutes into the first band’s set, and find myself walking into the room and landing four rows from the front, but still with a decent view, and instantly, I know I’m there, and I’m right in it. A few songs later, I get a nudge and a mate I didn’t know was coming, and who I’ve not seen in a while, and he’s handing me a pint. During the night I get to speak to a few people I’ve never met in person having only had virtual contact via Facebook in the past.

This simply doesn’t happen at huge gigs, where you turn up with mates, get separated between the bar and the bogs and you can’t see the bands for phone screens and can’t hear them for people talking. That doesn’t happen so much when you hear bands at proper volume.

Leading tonight’s Hull invasion are Candid Faces, a tight and energetic female-fronted five-piece with a penchant for angular punk/post punk and occasionally leaning into indie, sort of Bizarro-era Wedding present comes to mind. They’re four guys in jeans and t-shirts (and a vest) plus a gothy front woman, and she’s nonchalant while they’re bouncing around like peas on a drum, the calm in the eye of a sonic storm. ‘Telephonophibia’, the title track from their EP, is a bit Bondie, and they draw the set to a close with a brooding slow-burner that has epic simply oozing from every bar. They’re a class act and tight as anything.

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Candid Faces

Tom Sheldon brings another vest to the state. The set’s a mish-mash of funk and rock and grunge and….I’m fumbling as I’m making notes, and land on something kinda like Lenny Kravits meets Soundgarden. You can make of that what you will. He’s got a good voice, and may be a solo artist in name, but this is a power trio and I’m reminded of Milk in parts near the start, but the set swiftly depends into pretty mediocre 70s blues rock and torch-waving tedium. When they kick it up a notch, they sound like Rival Sons. Again, make of that that you will.

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Tom Sheldon

Bedsit are the reason I’m here. Having given some solid thumbs-ups to their releases and missed their last appearance here in York, I was keen to witness the force of their live show. Bloody hell. Arriving in a monster wall of feedback, Bedsit are straight into frenetic hardcore territory. A minute in, the bassist is in the audience, beer is being slopped, and he’s a one-man mosh pit. ‘Click Track’ is melodic, before, immediately after, ‘Eloquent’ goes In Utero Nirvana. Single cut ‘F.I.D.O.’ is a standout in a set of standouts. They make a serious racket, but it’s not without some thought, and what’s more, they showcase a remarkable stylistic range, while at the same time remaining coherent throughout the set. I wonder if the mic’d-up floor snare will take off as a thing. With just seven minutes left, they elect to close with the seven-minute slow-building shoegaze of ‘Happy’. Baritone vocal and crawling indie starts early Pulp and winds up full-on paint-stripping My Bloody Valentine wall of noise. You have to wonder how long these guys will be playing support slots, or venues of this size. I’m reminded of the fact that in recent years, I’ve seen Benefits and – another Hull act – BDRMM – play in this very venue, since when both acts have exploded. And again, I’m reminded that this is precisely why we need these venues, these gigs. I have so many friends recall the time they saw bands like Franz Ferdinand, Editors, playing 150-capacity venues less than a year before they broke.

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Bedsit

Vaquelin aren’t an instant hit in the image stakes: the guitarist’s Def Lep T? Hmm. There’s no questioning their musical competence, or songwriting ability, or their ability to whip up some movement in the audience. But… They feel a bit middling, a point accentuated by their following Bedsit. Or perhaps that’s the problem in its entirety. They acknowledge feeling nervous following such a killer act, and their concerns are justified. There’s some dark grit to the vocal and the guitars are hefty, and there is a lot to like. The set featured some clear highlights, with some atmosphere and proper dynamics and bold choruses, with detailed guitar work underpinned by a solid rhythm section, dominated by a thick bass tone. The nerdy-looking Def Lep fan guitarist can play and posture, legs akimbo, and presents as an unlikely rock start in the making. They got better as set progressed, and the moshpit grew in parallel. On any other night, they’d have been the band of the night, but after Bedsit, there are very few acts who would have really wowed.

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Vaquelin

The calibre of acts treading the boards tonight was outstanding, even if one was very much not to my taste. The artists people pay £60 to see are not superior – just better known.

I leave feeling empowered, enthused, enlivened, and with my ears ringing, buzzing at having seen bands playing their hardest, right in my face. This… this is everything.

In These Walls / Keep This Up / Negatives – The Fulford Arms, York, 11th February 2024

Posted: 12 February 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Not so long ago, I could be selective about the gigs I attended, wading through guest list offers and free to pick – and would likely attend at least one a week in a reviewing capacity. But, my change in personal circumstances means that getting out tends to be based on a fairly short-notice scan of ‘what’s on’ and Facebook events, meaning I’m far more likely to take punts on something that will get me out when the opportunity presents itself. This does mean that while I’m less likely to witness live music overall, I’m certainly more likely to see bands I wouldn’t have considered previously, and this is a positive thing.

A Sunday night in the middle of February – what have you got to offer, eh? I’m naturally gutted that The Last Dinner Party sold out The Brudenell well ahead of time, and while I really do rate Rob Newman, I’m not sure I’m up for laughs, and besides, I’m feeling the need for bands, so take a punt on three metal acts for a fiver ten minutes’ walk from my house.

One thing about going to see bands with no expectations is that you’re unlikely to be disappointed, and tonight’s offering was very much undersold with the ticket price, because despite the place far from being rammed, despite the lighting being average, the sound and the quality of the performances was such that it was very, very easy to forget that we’re in a small venue with a stage a foot high showcasing bands no-one’s heard of. But this again returns us to the topic of grassroots venues. All three acts on tonight’s bill are of a quality that could see them playing much bigger venues, landing festival slots, and performing to thousands, rather than dozens. Maybe in a year or two they will be, but without venues like this to hit on their first tour, how is it ever going to happen?

Waiting for the first act, I might take pause to extoll the virtues of solo gig attendance. I do appreciate that this is a very personal thing – but isn’t the appreciation of music a very personal thing? It’s not just that we listen to and immerse ourselves jn music in an individual space, more often than not, but also, how we respond is personal, in the way songs touch us emotionally in ways that are completely unique and ultimately – and unashamedly – solipsistic. However much a band may capture the zeitgeist, the way you react to it, the way you feel it – comes from a unique inner space. Music creates a space for s to lose ourselves in a way that few other mediums do. And so to be here, alone, with a pint – and a decent one at that – in near-darkness, in anticipation of the first act, not having to expend energy or headspace on anyone else is, to my mind, pure bliss. This half-hour of tranquillity is of such value that the bands could be crap and it wouldn’t bother me – being here is enough in itself.

But the bands are far from crap.

Negatives forewarn us that their singer us out in the car park. Practically dying, by the way they tell it. But they soldier on, heroically. Sequenced synths bolster the monster instrumental opener, with slabs of guitar, churning bass, and some subtly-executed but nevertheless detailed technical work on the lead guitar. The burly bassist’s in-ear monitors fall out, repeatedly, until he eventually gets fed up of tripping over them and stuffs them in his pocket. Bassists do tend to be understated or exuberant, and he’s in the latter category, lumbering and flailing all over, wringing the grooves out like he’s working the booming noise with his bare hands. They’re a proper full-throttle metal juggernaut, and considering they’re accustomed to having a front man, are visually and verbally engaging.

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Negatives

The last couple of songs are covers: for the first, a cover of Limp Bizkit’s ‘Break Stuff’ with the singer from Keep This Up, and a Slipknot cover with a couple of guts from In These Walls, collaborations which have evolved on this short tour, which they’ve clearly enjoyed and formed new bonds on. So many bands would have bailed under the circumstances, but with true Geordie grit, they blasted forward and did a killer job.

Keep This Up from Peterborough maintain the quality. Their thing is ferocious melodic post-hardcore, with two guitars, drums, and no bass. What? They don’t sound like they’re missing a bass, though. Anything they may be lacking instrumentally, they more than compensate with massive energy, and the singer pours every last ounce of what he’s got into every line, leaving him wilting and panting for air between songs. It’s hardly surprising: I’m knackered just watching him leap and lunge all over, and he’s probably done the equivalent of about 10K by the end of their half-hour set. Toward the end of the set, they drop a Nu-Metal lift of ‘Hollaback Girl’. Who knew we needed that, eh? But the biggest shock of the set was that the new guitarist is only playing his fourth gig, not only with the band, but ever. You’d never know: he brings a huge presence to the stage and some snarky, sarcastic bounce to the between-song banter. They feel like a really tight and cohesive unit, and don’t set a foot wrong through the entirety of a monster set.

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Keep This Up

In These Walls spent almost as long setting up and then soundchecking their massive drum kit as they did playing their set. Despite their being from York, I was unaware of their existence, and establishing any biographical details about them hasn’t proven easy. They weren’t supposed to be headlining, but swapped after Negatives found themselves a man down, meaning they’ve also had to expand their set to fill the slow. And yet for all this, they prove to be worthy headliners, and worth the wait with the pre-set faffing. They bring an immense, brutal sound with five-string bass and ball-busting power chords… and melodic, prog-tinged choruses. Huh? There’s an epic, expansive quality to their music that certainly goes far beyond Nu-Metal, exploring the further reaches of post-metal with aplomb. There’s a lot of detail, but not so technical as to be wanking. They pack a lot of action into half an hour, with an engaging, immersive, and dynamic performance.

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In These Walls

The takeaway here is that there wasn’t a weak band on the bill, and the vibe was simply joyful and enriching. All three bands absolutely played their knackers off. and were clearly having a ball just being out on tour and bringing their noise to people, who in turn, were loving every minute. And I will say it again: this is the heart-swelling joy of small gigs. All three bands proved to be every inch of the quality of bands you might see at 500+ capacity venues, even the O2 arenas for £20, the only difference being that they aren’t well-known. But they deserve to be. At an O2, you’ll be lucky to get within ten metres of the stage: here, you’re within ten metres of the stage even when you’re at the bar at the back: at the front you can see the whites of their eyes, see the sweat running, observe the fretwork. THIS is live music. And THIS is life.

Percy / Speedreaders / No Como Crees – The Fulford Arms, York, 13th January 2024

Posted: 14 January 2024 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

There tend not to be many good news stories about grassroots venues in circulation, so to be able to present one feels like a big, big deal: tonight’s gig marks ten years since The Fulford Arms, previously a pub that put on some gigs, came under new ownership and became a dedicated grassroots venue.

I’ve lost count of the number of shows I’ve attended, and even the number of times I’ve performed, during those years. I’ve also lost count of the number of times I’ve raved about just how brilliant a venue it is. Over the years, for a small venue, it’s pulled some big names, from Wayne Hussey and The March Violets, to Ginger Wildheart, as well as bands on the cusp, notably, in the past couple of years, Benefits and BDRMM – which perfectly illustrates the need for grassroots venues. The bands on the cusp cut their teeth in venues like this, and without them… well, so much has been said already on the detriment to the industry, the economy, to bands… but also, the community. One thing I’ve oft repeated is that where The Fulford Arms is concerned, much as important as the sound and the bands are, the sense of community is absolutely the thing that makes it. That community centres around disparate groups and individuals, who are all welcomed equally, regardless of commercial draw. The big gigs fund the tiny local events, the noise nights, anti-racism poetry and spoken-word nights. You name it, it happens here.

And sure enough, on arrival, there are people I know – plenty of people – and as always, it feels like coming home. Not quite a gig in your living room, unless you have a massive living room with a bar and friendly bar staff, but certainly a home from home.

Tonight’s lineup is very much a celebration of the diversity of acts they putt on here, and also, significantly, focuses on the local. While many have elected to see John Otway and Wild Willy Barret on the other side of town, it’s significant that we actually have choice of live music to see in smaller venues on any given evening.

It’s a shame that the hefty guitar-wielding noise juggernaut JUKU have had to pull out at short notice due to COVID, but what’s on offer is still diverse and enjoyable.

First up, No Como Crees – a trio reduced to a 2-piece due to their drummer having food poisoning – or ‘food poisoning’ – and so they’re playing acoustic for the first time, with two guitars. It’s a good thing the bassist can actually play guitar. The change in lineup has dictated a change in sound, meaning that instead of roustabout ska-punk we get acoustic Americana, and serves as a reminder of the York scene before The Fulford Arms became a venue proper, when every other pub would host some singer-songwriter solo or duo playing blues / Americana. Some acts were better than others, but ultimately the lack of variety was pretty grim.

Credit to them for the effort they’ve put into the set and how well they pull it off. Their second song reminds me rather of ‘Horse with No Name’ by America. Another song is supposed to be uptempo ska-punk in its usual format, but it too comes out as Springsteenish Americana. Then there’s a song with some rapped verses which really don’t work in an acoustic setting. I do feel sorry for them performing under difficult circumstances and it’s a decent effort but on balance, I probably wouldn’t have dug their standard set any more. Sporting flat caps, custom-printed basketball vests, and beards, and swaying around airily, they’re vaguely irritating, and paired with some repetitive, unfunny banter, I find them hard to take to… and then they chuck in a cover of Jessie J’s ‘Price Tag’. But… they play well and have good voices. and variety is the key to tonight’s lineup.

Act 1

No Como Crees

Speedreaders are certainly a contrast. Although a relatively new act, they feature some longstanding faces from the city’s scene. There’s something quintessentially York about their brand of ponderous indie straddling 80s and 90s, with jangling guitar and tempo changes and buildups galore, and style of jumpers and jeans, open shirts over t-shirts indie. In the main, it’s understated, somewhat slowcore. “We’re not cocky, we’re just awkward” David Mudie (guitars and vocals) says, breaking one of the lengthy silences between songs while tunes up. Plugging away at a handful of chords, pushed along by simple, uncluttered drumming, the songs shine with all three band members’ vocals blending to later the sound. They really cut loose on final song, ‘Down-Round’, which lands in the territory of Pavement and Dinosaur Jr circa You’re Living All Over Me, with some gloriously wistful minor chords, before hitting an epic kraut groove workout that brings the set to a sustained climax.

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Speedreaders

Percy have been going for twenty-eight years now, and while they may have undergone a few lineup changes, through the years, the current one is solid, and they’ve been prolific, both in terms of recorded output and gigs. They’re certainly worthy headliners for tonight’s show – a band who’ve trodden the boards at the Fully Arms countless times, and a band who have spent their career pedalling their wares round the grassroots circuit.

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Percy

Spells of raised profile have come and gone, and they’re still doing what they do. As York’s answer to The Fall, they’ll keep on doing it, too. As such, tonight’s outing is business as usual for Percy, and in typical style as learned from The Fall, they play their forthcoming album, which currently has no release date, in its entirety. Awkward Northern buggers. Then again, like the bands who in many respects define that Northern attitude – I’m thinking not only The Fall, but The Wedding Present,

JUKU / Wasted Denim – The Fulford Arms, York 16th July 2023

Posted: 16 July 2023 in Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

It’s been a while since I attended one of these short Sunday matinee shows, but last time I did – last spring, when Snakerattlers launched their album – I was absolutely sold on the concept of a band or two and a couple of pints after Sunday lunch. Dan Gott – of Snakerattlers, JUKU, and gig promoters Behind the White Door – is one of those people who likes to do something different, and it’s great to see him coming back to this idea.

Since the last time I came to one of these, a lot has happened, and now being a single parent to a primary-school age daughter and with no relatives on the county makes getting out on a night nigh on impossible, so this offered me a rare opportunity to get out for beer and live music. I’m clearly not the only one who digs the short matinee format, with around fifty punters occupying the dark space rather than basking in the beer garden.

Before the show, the partner of one of the guys from Wasted Denim is explaining to their kids, sensibly sporting ear defenders, the process of the soundcheck, and there’s something warming about this kind of environment, and speaks volumes about the bands, the venue, and the organisers.

It’s good for bands, too, opening up the possibility of playing two shows in a day, getting paid twice, and selling merch to two sets of punters. Or simply to get home ein decent time ahead of dayjobs the following morning.

Wasted Denim’s singer has a Black Flag tattoo and the drummer is wearing a Bad Religion T-shirt. The Leeds trip piledrive through the songs – fast, short, Ramones meets The Clash meets The Ruts, all with a gritty hardcore edge – with zeal, blurring together only separated by a call of ‘onetwothreefour!’ Songs like ‘You’re Gross’ and ‘I don’t Wanna be a Dickhead’, introduced as a song about personal wealth, aren’t works of lyrical genius by any stretch, but that’s not what punk’s about. It’s immediate, it’s raw. And they’re as tight as hell. Sure, they only have one tempo – fast – and four chords, but more is just showing off anyway. The set gets faster as it progresses. They’re fun, and seem like decent guys, too.

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Wasted Denim

I’d been forewarned that JUKU would be seriously loud, threatening ‘Thunderclap drumming, distorted to holy fuck guitars, massive riffs and a clean feminine vocal cutting through the massive wall of noise.’ With Snakerattlers Dan and Naomi Gott on guitar and bass/vocals respectively, this relatively new quartet are a world away from the duo’s reverb-heavy swamy psychedelic surf-rock. There’s no twang or space to longer here: every second is pure density, the sonic equivalent of driving headlong into a brick wall.

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JUKU

And yes, they’re loud as fuck. Opener ‘Hot Mess’ opener is a throbbing stomper of a tune, with monster big balls and massive swagger. ‘Pressure’ ups the pace and the adrenaline. ‘Trigger’ shows a more sensitive side, and more of a pop aesthetic, but it’s still propelled by a monster riff and pulsating rhythm section. Naomi’s vocals are a strong asset – gutsy, but nuanced. ‘I’m no fun’, she sings on ‘No Fun’, which is absolutely storming, and it so happens, a lot of fun. Sharing vocal duties back and forth on ‘We Don’t Belong’, Dan screams his lines adding another layer of dynamics, while ‘Devil Inside’ exploits quiet / loud grunge dynamics to strong effect, before ending the set with the 100mph ‘No No.’

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JUKU

At times, New York punk and No Wave leanings come to the fore in a set that’s driving, hard-edged, aggressive. Boasting solid hooks and blistering energy, it’s mint, and Dan taking advantage of being wireless and taking his guitar around the venue as he chugs out beefy chords adds to the energy. They kick out nine songs in twenty-five high-impact minutes. In terms of the set’s structure, it’s faultless: if they record these nine songs and release them in this order, they’ve got a killer album on their hands already. The world needs to hear it.

Nervous Twitch / Soma Crew / The Rosettas – The Fulford Arms, York, 15th December 2022

Posted: 16 December 2022 in Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

This was supposed to be the perfect bookend to the year: after Percy supported Soma Crew at The Crescent in May, the roles were to be swapped tonight following the release of Percy’s new album, Monorail, in June. But sadly, it wasn’t to be, on account of Percy’s drummer Jason royally fucking his back.

Gigs at this time of year are always a risk, and not only on account of the potentials for injury (as the icy pavements on the way only highlight): the fact that it’s hard sub-zero means a lot of people can’t face wrapping up again after work to turn out on an evening, and then there all of the obligatory work / mates drinks and all that cal. Throw in Steve Mason playing across town and this one was always going to be a gamble, but despite the headliners’ late withdrawal, it’s a respectable crowd who witness The Rosettas emerging sounding stronger than the last time I saw them at the end of September. The sound is solid, buzzy, grungy.

The singer’s confidence leans into arrogance throughout, and not just in ignoring advice sagely dispensed in my coverage of said show in September, while actually mentioning the recommendation not to drop a cover as their second song, they slam in with a faithful rendition of Blur’s ‘Song 2’ as the second song of the set. But it makes sense, and it is well played, as is the majority of the rest of the set. I suspect the singer’s suffering from a cold or something that gives his voice quite a ragged edge, but actually, it sounds decent.

Rosettas

The Rosettas

Unfortunately, technical issues and a lack of organisation means the set ends abruptly and somewhat chaotically, but they played with enthusiasm and were a lot less reliant on covers, and ultimately made the best of a less than ideal situation.

They seem to clear out and take half the audience with them, but, undeterred, Soma Crew take the stage and drench it with sonorous droning feedback. Then they build into a single chord dragging for all eternity as the muffled drums plod away in the back and they hit peak hypnotic. And then the tremolo enters the mix and the volume steps up with the arrival of the snare drum and…. and… and… the set drifts, and my mind drifts, and it’s a most pleasant experience. Time hangs in suspension. ‘Mighty Forces’ is indeed mighty, and the mid-pace one chord chugs are supremely soporific. Everything is measured, mellow, hazy. Everything comes together to conjure a thick sonic mist, and it’s absolutely magnificent. It’s also seriously loud, as I come to realise about two-thirds of the way into the set. When did that happen? Did it get louder? Perhaps. Probably. I can’t help but feel that Soma Crew are seriously underrated, and tonight they really hit all the sweet spots at once.

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Soma Crew

Leeds trio Nervous Twitch are worthy headliners, and launch into their set without a word, no fuss, not a single note of level checking. Pow! It’s proper, unfussy, old-school punk, three and four chord thrashes played with big energy, and they’re as tight as any band you’ll hear. Sure, with a female singer (who also plays bass), they invite obvious comparisons to X-Ray Spex and Penetration, and as much as they’re punk, they’re catchy and poppy at the same time, and ultimately, they’re good fun.

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Nervous Twitch

There are, of course, many bands playing in the next fortnight, in every city across the nation. Some will draw crowds, others less so. While I enter temporary hibernation, it feels like an appropriate time to reflect, and to celebrate the venues we’re fortunate to still have, and the fact that while times remain tough, 2022 has at last seen live music return to the social calendar. And for all the other shit we’re surrounded by – I can’t even begin the list – this is something we can be immensely grateful for.

Various artists: EMOM York XIII, The Fulford Arms, York, 30th November 2022

Posted: 3 December 2022 in Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

I absolutely love the EMOM nights: regardless of where they are, they’re eclectic, and above all, accommodating: there’s a real sense of community around them. But if there’s one criticism to be made, it’s around the demographic: guys. Always guys. White, and mostly 50+. This was particularly apparent at the Leeds EMOM at Wharf Chambers a couple of months ago, and admittedly, this is inching towards being my demographic, but… well. What to do about it? It’s an open mic. How can you make something that’s inclusive feel like a place for everyone?

While many guys take up tinkering with synths once their kids have left the nest, it’s clear that this is not representative of the electronic scene, by any means. So why do EMOM nights draw wall-to-wall guys, middle-aged or older, pissing about with expensive midlife-crisis kit, but next to no women or, well, anyone who’s not a middle-aged white bloke?

Tonight does not conform to this emerging form, and it’s genuinely warming to see that the room is not only quite full, but rather more diverse in its populace.

The diversity applies to the music on offer, too: within the first four acts, we’d witnessed modular minimal krautrock, angular bleeping and live chess, as well as an abundance of laptop action, yielding a full spectrum of styles and frequencies. And the evening swiftly evolves from here, because then there’s some absolutely everything going off all at once choral samples, synths and bouncing grooves what the fuckness from Hull’s PariahX, noodly and surprisingly atmospheric, vintage sci fi stuff from regulars TSR2, the trio again reduced to a duo, making innovative use of a mobile phone. They’re reliably good, but this is possibly the best I’ve heard from them yet.

Host Simon Higginbotham, who operates as How Buildings Fail, brings a heap of kit and five miles of cable to conjure squelchy experimental electronica in the vein of Cabaret Voltaire, as fronted by Mark E Smith, thanks to his sprechgesang vocals. He looks like he’s having a ball, and he does a great job, with the sound emanating from the PA landing in the region of Dr Mix: it’s of proper late 70s vintage in style, with pulsating retro drum machine sounds and endless reverb proving integral to the experience.

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How Buildings Fail

Dots brought guitar, keytar, and his ‘n’ hers silver spangled outfits, and the human glitterballs provided one of the night’s more unexpected turns. They were good fun, too, even if I was mostly plunging headlong into the zone where everything goes quiet and fades into a blur as I fumble with cables and fret about the seconds ticking down. I am aware that appear significantly more composed than I really am. My head is swimming and everything is a fog.

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Dots

The question of whether or not it’s acceptable to review gigs where you’re also performing is one I’ve touched on more than once, and tonight my focus on the acts has been pulled a little by the prospect of my first collaboration with Debz Fialkiewicz. Having been impressed by Hull Duo Spore’s performance at WonkyStuff in October, I wrote ‘I feel I should collaborate with these guys – because they’re ace, and Nosnispore has a definite ring to it’. And this, I have to say is the beauty of this little scene: the people are open-minded and interested. Debz got in touch, and so with no rehearsal and only minimal discussion – simply an agreement on ‘dark ambient noise with dystopian spoken word narrative’ the day before – it happened. A few people said the vocals were too low in the mix and barely audible beneath all the echo, but that was exactly the idea. There’s going to be more where that came from.

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Noisenispore

Still buzzing, I slump, drained, into my seat to watch the rest of the night.

Ian J Cole brought some avant-oddity, while Jamie brought some thumping uptempo rhythms to build a harsh beat-driven techno attack before Tom Ray – Home Taper – brought some bulbous, buzzing laptop distortion-driven heavy drone by way of a finale. He brought some really nice, dirty, dark tones and difficult frequencies that rattled the bones and sent vibrations through the intestines, and it felt good. Maybe there’s another collaboration there.

Jamie EMOM

Jamie

Tom

Home Taper

In all, it was another cracking night, and a first-class showcase of the thriving electronic scene in Yorkshire.

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