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Phil Sat 2nd Feb
Like the Alman Brothers on a budget, Pocket are snooker theme tunes
incarnate. Surftastic instrumental mayhem and the worlds craziest hair. The bear
bone sound of Reverend Pike shunts and stutters, jarring into your continous at
awkward angles.
Beautifully quifferd, Nero Burns are coming for you like a 50’s 3D monster
movie…rockabilly beat, tales of the Zombie Queen. Ricky Spontane variant The
Rickets continue the Spontane traditions, hopping on one leg careering about the
stage, odes to Fat’s Domino’s piano magic.
Andy Feb 4th to 10th
Tue 5th
It’s going to be positive week this week. I told myself that repeatedly over
and over, as I tried to stop the steam from my ears misting up my windscreen as
I sat in a jam the entire length of Lea Bridge Road this morning. I was quite
convincing.
Tuesday night and 14th Floor are making a pretty solid racket.
Positive week, its positive week, I fail to find a fitting comparison for 14th
Floor, can’t quite put my finger on their bag. I did get the feeling that I’d be
happy enough to see them again. We’ll file them under ‘Indie Rock’ for the
moment and see if they pop up again. Make that ‘Positive Indie Rock’.
Max Plastics singer thinks he’s Ian Brown or Peter Hooten (The Farm’s
singer). He ambles, walking on the moon style, quality skunk style, where’s me
maraca’s style, through the songs. He’s sports casual and the band are post
baggy. The crowd are laid back but seem appreciative.
Anti Hero are the complete opposite in terms of energy. It’s Placebo, Muse
style power pop. They go down a storm and the crowd buzz and whoops in return.
It’s Lamaq fodder, polished and clean cut, expect to hear them on the evening
session any week about now.
Fri 8th
It’s positive week so I’ll pretend I did’nt see Crisis Dance and start with
Empathy tonight.
I’m growing to like this lot. I’ve seen them enough times recently to suggest
that the law of averages has gone astray somewhere in Kentish Town. It must be
Phil’s turn soon.
Empathy’s mature sounding chunks of Verve inspired guitar rock belies their
fresh faced appearances.
Vivid are a bit too Deacon Blue for me, but hey, it’s positive week and the
crowd seems happy enough.
And then it’s The Perfect again. They’re keen, Keen as mustard must be one of
life’s dumbest sayings. The Perfects enthusiasm for a swift B&G return is
matched by their audience who have filled the place for the second time in a
month . Somewhere between Orange Juice and The Christians me ponders.
The night ends at 11-20 and I feel the urge to steal a car, pick up a
prostetute and smack an innocent bystander around the head with a baseball bat.
As you do. It’s time to go home and play Grand Theft Auto 3. Goodnight.
Sat 9th
It’s wet, windy and dark. It’s a horrible night. It’s a straight choice
between Blind Date or a gig at The Windmill. Only snag is that The Windmill is
in Brixton. No choice really. The drive across London, East to West, takes the
duration of La Foile by The Stranglers. I park up about fifty yards from the pub
in a dark side street and give my car stereo a hopeful lingering glance. It
would’nt be the first time a trip to this part of town has cost me a window
payne and a new stereo. Come to think of it it would’nt be the second either.
The gig better be good. The Windmill is a sort of double L shaped boozer with a
stage tucked away at the far end. The place is cosy and has a slightly squatsih
feel to it. Not a crusty in sight though. Brixton is full of Time Out reading
charlie heads these days. Break open the styling mousse we’re going to the pub.
Two pints is my limit tonight, I buy a Guiness and join the huddle down at the
far end of the bar whaching Ghost House. They’re a New Zealand three piece,
garage rock, like a dirty sounding Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians. Bilge Pump
are second. I’ve been waiting about seven years to see this lot. At times they
are a thrash jazz version of Big Black, great stuff, I think I’ve got a demo of
theirs in the car. Shit that’s got me thinking about little bits of broken
glass and wires protruding lifelessly from the dash board again, good time for
my second Guiness. The worst thing about going to a gig on your own is that you
seem to become a magnet for snogging couples. I move twice as slobbering
canoodlers do they’re best to make me feel like the invisible man and put me off
my pint. Finally Planquez arrive on stage. Much meloncholly ker-chang-ing of
guitars it’s sort of rumble an’ roll. Can like drums power them along and it
definitely beats Blind Date, but then again being stuck in a lift with Steve
‘Snooker loopy nuts are we’ Davis would beat Blind Date.
On returning to my car I can see no shiny little pieces reflecting up at me
by street lamp from about twenty yards. It’s been a good night, I can’t find
Bilge Pump but I blast The Fall’s Levitate the length of Brixton Hill as if to
say "Look you bastards you did’nt get my stereo this time!"
Sun 10th
Three gigs in three days. Three more bands to peruse in positive week. Theres
a few bods in the B&G tonight. It’s still pretty grim outside, wet and
windy. Leisure Industry have exchanged bedroom for venue. They sound like the
ultimate bedroom band. Two blokes dressed in black play New Order type super
market music. I know it’s positive week! We all need tunes to do the shopping
to.
Winnie Cooper introduce a song as ‘being the only song ever written about New
Cross’. They’ve obviously never come across Carter USM or Brain Of Morbius. They
are like early REM with big bollocks. Finally Trigga do an impersonation of The
Red Hot Chilli Peppers and we all go home.
Doh! Did’nt you know, positive week only lasts for six days.
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