Bakersfield

I skated the skatepark alone. I met a few friendly faces on the concrete, but I left the skatepark the same way I came in.
A homeless man yelled at me as I eyed up the wallride he lay against.
I cut my losses and headed to the bus station. I used Bezan's phone to figure out how much desert lay between me and Santa Fe. A lot.
After much stressing I said Fuck It and paid the hundred bucks for a bus ticket. The bus didn't leave til after midnight, so I took it upon myself to see the sights of Bakersfield and experience the night to come. I walked dreaded and heavy through the suburbs. House after house, yard after yard, fence after fence. I passed an abandoned power station, adorned with signs of danger, cancer risks and holes cut with pliers.
The sun went down, I felt hungry, so I found a bar. They served burgers, so I ordered one. There was a band playing at the bar but it was nothing special. I passed the time by making conversation with a couple girls, Beth and her friend. I grew restless, so I asked them what the hell else was going on. They took me to another bar.
We walked downstairs into a crowded sweaty den. The band was killing it full swing. Funk, RnB, rock.. it was on. I vaguely remember leaving my skate with the bouncer on the door. Vaguely. I danced and danced. The upcoming bus departure seemed weeks away. The Frontwoman was sexy as hell. Legs, dress, bright blonde flowing hair and a powerful stance. It went and went, until I couldn't anymore. They ended on "Sunday Morning". fucking killed it. I drunkenly stumbled up the stairs to the street. "HEy! Is this yours??" Yelled a voice
I turned around to see a man holding my beautiful dark-red Alva single-tail. What a great man that bouncer was. Me, Beth and her friend jumped in her car and started driving. Beth put Tegan and Sara on the stereo. I lost my head again.
"YOU LISTEN TO TEGAN AND SARA?!!?". She started to laugh.
Nineteen came on. Fuck we almost crashed into a signpost.

    "I felt you in my legs, before I ever met you.."

    "when you lay beside me, I told youuu"

FUCCKK...

"Now we're sayin bye, BYEEEeeeEEEEE..."

How can you express the feeling, it was beyond it all. To love a song so deeply and wonderfully, and to find someone who feels the same way on the other side of the world, in Bakersfield of all places, at 1am in the front seat of a beat-up sedan. What a trip. Her friend in the backseat was silent the whole time, I don't remember talking to her at all besides at the first bar.
After the song ended we talked drunk and messy until the bus station came up.
"you don't have to go, you can stay at my place in my brother's bedroom. You just have to wake up before my Dad does."

Now, here is where a real story could have started. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I was a very nervous and panic-ridden person during this time, on top of being alone and on a time-limited travel visa. My biggest concern was over-staying and not being allowed back in the US. What I should have done was said Fuck It to the future and gone headlong into the dusty twisting road of freedom. Unbridled, unchartered, unnacountable freedom. 

Time caught up with me and I pulled the reins, deciding to take the easy choice and ride the bus.
I needed more alcohol for the ride. Unfortunately I forgot how strict Americans are about drinking.
I was harrased by the station officer-boy who sounded like a robot. The more he called me "Sir" the more I wanted to disobey him. He couldn't have been over 18. I felt angry and drunkenly hurled the 12 pack into the can.
"Stop ben.. You're making a scene!" hissed Beth, quietly in my ear.
"Enjoy the afterparty" I told the attendant, as he scuttled over and feebly attempted to fish the bag of beers out of the can.
I wish I had the guts to say Fuck It to my stupidly expensive bus ticket and take the ride home with Beth, but thats the way life goes. Full of grabbed and missed opportunites.. wished I'd could-haves, never-ending wantings.. but in the end, all you have is where you are.

 I wrote a song today. Well, a melody really. Fil and Zvone lie sleeping in my room. its 10am, cars are moving, people are drinking coffee and chatting outside.
It was a day and a night. A serious day and a night.
I started off feeling fucked. Completely fucked. Every human interaction was a burden.
Me Fil and fil went for a jam. It wasn't good. At times it was okay, but mostly it sucked. It felt like a hassle. Something was weighing me, weighing us down. After the jam I drank a couple beers and smoked a cig with Fil.
We walked to town to catch the jam at KCM. Something about walking calmed me down. By the time we reached the spot I stopped caring so much. We bumped into some guys on the stairs and their energy breezed right through us. It felt nice to watch them walk away. We sat and finished our cigarettes before we entered the club. 
Inside it was the same old guys, jamming away. There were some solid notes here and there, some dark-purple coloured moments, but overall it didn't do that much for me. There was no sense of life or energy in their music. It seemed more like a routine, or a means to showcase their individual talents rather than attempt to make something. I sat through it until the drummers changed. Needed a break so went outside. fil was on the terrace drinkin a beer after 2 weeks sober, so I savoured it and lit up a cigarette. We talked about some things and how much we love each other, and then settled into our chairs and admired all the beautiful women around us. The music started sounding good so I went in to check it out. 

I went back out after a bit to join fil again. He felt chilly so we migrated indoors. The music started getting hot again, so I ushered him downstairs and we joined Fil. Bought a new round and enjoyed the sounds. They entered a jazz number and the drummer started to sweat a little.
The new bassist was into it hard, his fingers moved pretty damn fast. There were two guitarists this time, the one guy playing a white guitar was shredding, fingers all over the place, never a wrong note, perfect actually, but enjoyably perfect. 
At some point the drummers changed, and then gave up, so I jumped in.
Almost naturally all the other musicians dropped their instruments, so Fil and fil came up. It was pretty sick timing. We started jamming straight away. I was pretty drunk. I was trying to play faster than my co-ordination could allow, missing beats and generally sucking hard. Eventually we found our groove and it felt good. We built it up and broke it down, then built it up again and again. I looked up and there were only 3 or 4 people watching, but they were actually watching us. They weren't talking or anything, just watching. That felt cool. fil caught my eye and yelled that we had to stop cos they were closing, so we wrapped it up as neat as we could.

after that we sat on the terrace a while and I started gettting itchy feet so I invited everyone over for rice and beer. Picked up a tallboy and a pack of crisps on the way and immediately started washing the rice. Homies came round, rice cooked up, mixed it with Tomato paste and ajvar. I liked it. Zvone seemed to like it too. The guys talked and talked. Fil played a 10-minute compilation of random people singing the intro to Down with the Sickness. I fell asleep at some point. When I woke up they were still talking except Zvone was asleep. Eventually the brothers left and me and Fil got to talking heavy.
We cried, we laughed, we hugged and sang as the world awoke around us. We watched the customers drinking coffee on the courtyard below us. The waitress came out to serve them.
"She's pretty skanky" commented Fil.
"Yeah but you'd fuck her if you had the chance."
"Of course" he replied.

https://soundcloud.com/ben-coniam/zg-depress-tuning-2

Chrissy jamming in his bedroom. 28th Dec., 2014

It was a Friday night. My testosterone burned through my system relentlessly, to have a conversation was torture. Fortunately, all my friends decided to get stoned, so I was left to my own devices. After desperate attempts to masturbate I stopped myself and did some push-ups instead. Then I took a cold shower, put on my jacket and walked to town.
Along the way I whistled loudly to myself, and then paused at a bus station to do calf stretches. A couple of young men passed and encouraged me. I continued walking down the High Street.
A homeless man sat outside the bank yelling at his dog, and groups of young people dressed to party stood milling about with an air of expectancy, occasionally glancing at him. Two police men appeared and started towards the man, so he stood up and began to walk away, his dog in tow.

There was a man on the High Street, I've seen him twice before. He has thinning dark hair which begins a bit late and runs to the shoulders, exposing slightly more of his gentle sloping forehead lined with thick friendly creases. He plays the violin and is always wearing the same suit with ducktails. Tonight I decided to sit and watch. My mind started to drift and I pictured the violinist of 100 years ago, a crowd of listeners, their accumulated feelings of despair, merriment or content all summed up by one man's noodleing.
A man approached him and requested a tune, however he did not know the name of it, so instead he hummed. The violin immediately picked up the melody and the passerby, so happy at hearing this, closed his eyes, dropped his change into the violin case and began to dance a slow swaying tribute to joy.

I arrived at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Soul music was playing, interlaced with some dancehall, so the mood was electric. I befriended an older couple and the woman ordered me a fresh drink. A blonde girl glanced at me whilst another man hit on her, and the bartenders offered brief awkward smiles. After my third drink I walked outside and began smoking and talking with three guys of about the same age. Their names were James, Chrissy and Adam. Adam was a handsome chap with a firm handshake who disappeared home with a woman after 20 minutes. Chrissy was a loud and boisterous Mancunian chef, with a heart as big as his chins. James was the liveliest and youngest of the three, yapping with constant energy and unwavering positivity, and it was because of him that I did not lapse into my usual state of drunken self-pity.
We danced the twist and drank tequila. I approached many women but did not see anything in any of them. Before I could let my head droop James was already pulling me back into the dance floor.

The crowd began to peter out and so we left. We decided to head back to Chrissy's and smoke. A drunken lad vainly tried to stand up to Chrissy after being pushed out of the way for us to get into a taxi. He was being held back half-heartedly by his girlfriend as we all laughed at him through the rear window and drove off. We ended up at Chrissy's by 4am. Chrissy and James began to argue in the endless manner that only close friends do. After a few minutes of it I got up to leave and they apologised and made up. Chris then rolled a joint whilst telling embarrassing childhood stories. I picked up his guitar and plucked something, and then he picked it up and played. He put on a backing track and played along, jamming. I sat upright on a mattress on the floor, with my back to the wall, listening. After a couple of minutes I started to cry. I felt unafraid to show my feeling, just like the man on the street dancing to the violinist, and I could not miss this opportunity to cry to such a beautiful sound. All we're looking for is a release, a release from the horrible routines we have designed for ourselves. I let the tears fall down my face and didn't bother wiping them away. I don't want to try and describe the music he played. It will ruin the memory.

Cro-Mags @ Red7, Austin TX. 12th July 2014

This show determined which way I was to head next. Either East to Houston, or North to Austin. Scrolling through the list of bands playing Austin that weekend, Cro-Mags appeared, and that was that. Goodbye San Antonio.

My friends dropped me off at a gas station somewhere outside the city. I caught a ride pretty quickly from a newly married couple on their way back to Austin. They got me to the venue 6 hours early, so I walked around the block a few times in search of a safe stoop away from prying eyes and gnarly street squirrels. City squirrels out here are no joke, this one bastard came right up to my leg trying to rip my sandwich off me. I managed to get away and started talking to a nice lady walking a 3-legged dog, and soon enough I was up in her apartment doing shots with her and her boyfriend. We then wandered through a couple bars and when I looked at the clock the doors had opened, so she gave me a 20 and told me to go enjoy myself. Unreal.

5 minutes later I found myself inside the club, nicely drunk, without a penny of my own money spent. I befriended an OG punk named Arms and bought us both a beer. I cant remember what we said but he had a lot of energy and I had a lot of energy and we both just fed off it. We split ways and I tried talking to some other OGs but they were music nerds and all they did was huff and sigh about how much "music sucks these days" and all that shit. Thank fuck the guitars started up. Ran outside to the stage. No openers, must've missed em all. Cro-Mags baby.

Front man was already pacing, mic in hand, giving shoutouts and checking what was up with the audience. I was fuckin racing at this point. Nothing scared me. Nothing.

WORLD PEACE!!! First song, so damn good. The crowd exploded sending bystanders to the furthest corners of the floor. Around 40 of us jammed the frontline reaching out to the Mic yelling IT JUST CAN'T EXIST.

I can only clearly remember 3 songs which were World Peace, We Gotta Know and Hard Times. The rest of the show was a blur of pure ecstasy. Maybe the alcohol had some part in it, but I couldnt take my dumb-ass grin off my face, it felt so fuckin good to be there. A few times I'd run off from the front and deep into the bystanders yelling PUSH ME!! PUSH ME!!!! and end up somewhere on the other side of the floor. Me and Arms re-united and ran around the pit, arm-in-arm, stumbling and tangled like a drunken whirlwind screaming and yelling at the top of our lungs.
People often think of Cro as tough-guy shit but that show was all love. Everyone got picked up off the floor, including me. I kept trying to stage dive but I think I was jumping too far cos every time I hit the floor straight on my back. By the end of the set I felt like a caveman, arms swinging loose by my side all ape-like, then sprinting up to the stage yelling WE GOTTA KNOW and jumping back off again..

They came back on for an encore and ended the night with Hard-mutherfucking-Times.
I lost my shit. We all did. That song is just too much. We were all running in circles, building momentum, until he'd reach up and start hollerin
HARD TIMES.
HARD TIMES.
CAMINAAHHCAMINHAAAH SENDIN IT HOME
whatever he'd be sayin and we'd all be up there with him, all of us, our sweat, our voices and our blood like one big nasty chorus... goddamn... what an orgasm.

We gotta know
Hard Times - this is officially the best way to listen to a recording of this song

Thank you Cro Mags.
 

Backtrack and KingLyChee @ Musician AREA. Feb 9th, 2014.

36 dollars worth of roasted chestnuts really is 36 dollars worth of roasted chestnuts. 

I found this out the hard way, and only 2 out of the 59 people I asked on the way there accepted my offer of a hot roasted one. I stumbled into the band room and semi-offered Backtrack but the potential to wet my pants from intimidation was too high so I couldn't look them directly in the eyes. 

Just so you get an even deeper understanding of what happened to me at this show, I will demonstrate via metaphorical comparison. In a nutshell, going to a hardcore is like eating some muthafuckin chestnuts aigghh?
First you gotta penetrate the outer skin, that tough and smooth surface so weathered and strong after hours of heat and comfortable livin. Once that skin is broken though, all the goodness is there to get MUNCHED. The soft warm insides, so used to a life of sheltered serenity, suddenly get thrust out into the world and thrown into yer goddern mouth, and they either slide down yer gullet smooth and easy and have a good time, or wriggle n writhe and complain until you can't take it and have to spit em out, right to the back of the room. Chestnuts. You feelin me?

We got there super early, KingLyChee weren't meant to start till 8 so we milled around, I made some half-assed attempt to sell off the rest of my nuts but gave up and tossed em down the stairwell. So long ol nuts, hopefully the factory rats enjoyed you.

KLC eventually took the floor and we were all ready for some fuckin noise. Unfortunately I don't know the names of any KLC songs, nor the lyrics, which really sucks on my part cos watching all the kids jumpin around got me real hyped. Riz holds the floor. He's got this stance like he's surfing, realll low with his arms out, swayin from left to right. Then all of a sudden he jumps up and yells at the roof and the kids all scramble up to grab at his microphone. He gets the brim of his hat on real tight, right above his eyes so when he’s looking at you, he’s looking at you. I was getting into it on some numbers, but my heart was truly set on Backtrack. KLC was the thumbnail stabbing the skin, trying to pierce an opening. I felt something dark and unsettling deep inside me that I had to get out, and it definitely wasn't poop cos I'd got that out of the way in the morning. I'd listened to Backtrack on youtube a bunch before the show and from the moment I heard their guitars I knew that it was the exact sound I needed.

KLC finished up, my ears were ringing, my nostrils were leakin goop and kids were pulling their dislocated shoulders back into place.
The first thing Backtrack did when they came on stage was to usher the crowd up the front. "Scoot up! Scoot UP!!" He yelled. Very good idea.
Then, no hesitiation, straight into it, BAM. WAll of speed fucking fast running noise. ---  SICK OF FOLLOWIN. THEIR RULES. --- Oh man, I never go to any hardcore gigs knowing the lyrics. That was the only song I knew words to. Throughout the gig I tried to refrain from jumping up to grab the mic cos I never knew what the fuck to say, but sometimes I had to man, grab it and yell YARRARHSHGHAERBGARBLEGARBLE something it felt realllly good. Big pile of clawing climbing bodies gotta get on top of it. In one song I'm pretty sure he says "muth-er-fuck-ing purple shoe" over and over, so I stuck with that and yelled it at the top of my lungs. Fuck, the singer's voice. Its like a switchblade, whip whip sharp and quick. Oh man, His dancing, pounding his feet on the ground the stage bouncing with the force, his raw fuckin energy, too good. Thats how I describe that band, raw energy. Like hurling a bottle against a wall. The guitars punching through straight through. Bass drum bass drum bass drum. Bassist stood solid as a rock the entire set, legs more than shoulder's width apart, never gonna move. Kids diving off the stage falling straight on the floor gettin back up doin it again. 4 songs in and I was T I R E D. But they were digging, they were reaching inside of me, pulling that inhibition out. I was dancing trying to get into it, I could feel this explosion of pent up feeling boiling and rising inside of me. Then it hit. Totally unexpected, totally unthinking, just FUCKiNG BAM. 2nd to last song, I lost it full force, full power boom boom fuck slamming into people running round and round round the circle, jump back in slam my fist on the stage BOOMM fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. I get tense just thinking about it, oh oh ohhh. And fuck yeah we brought em back on for one more song!! They said they had nothing left so fuck it, play SICK OF FOLLOWIN THEIR RULES, crowd pleaser, gotta love it.

Thanks a lot Backtrack, you made me really happy. And thanks a lot Riz and everyone who made this happen, Hong Kong needs you more than you realise. And more thanks to roasted chestnuts for making me a literary genius.

Backtrack FB: https://www.facebook.com/BacktrackNYHC

                  THEIR RULES: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7y1kuESm3M0

KLC: http://kinglychee.com/

King Khan and BBQ show + Bloodcults @ Hidden Agenda, Hong Kong. 6th June 2013.

The theme of today's blog post is dirt.

Dirt. Dirtiness. Filthy, grimy, slimy, dusty, itchy, flakey, leaky intolerable uncleanliness. A state which surrounds us all, a state which the majority of us avoid, a state filled with negativity, looked down upon, feared and detested. I tend to be one of these people who hate dirt, however, over the past couple of years I have begun to realise how necessary it sometimes is to be dirty and how damn good it can feel.

On the day of the King Khan and BBQ show I woke up at around 10.30 with pink-eye, definitely a result of my friend's couch pillows; unwashed and crusty after a years worth of post-skate sweat, sex-sweat, hurrying-back-from-7/11-with-beer-sweat, pocari sweat and so many other sweats I don’t wanna think about. This experience was a more than fitting way to gear me up for the show, I guess it was just meant to be a dirty day.

I made it to Hidden Agenda after skating all day long so my boxers were nice and sodden, my socks slippery and the stinky spot behind my right ear was in full effect. The first band that played were a trio named Bloodcults. They were pretty fun; a messy, poppy and upbeat sound, a real friendship band. The drummer was a big guy, straddling his snare between his thighs and singing jovially into the mic. I liked his facial expressions, they reminded me of the pantomimes I went to as a kid. Mouth opening in strange directions and eyes combusting spontaneously. He sounded pretty homo-erotic at times which was rad, it went well with their music. For a few songs he was subbed in on vocals by the girl on lead guitar. She was kooky. Definitely kooky. She wore a big blue wig and couldnt stop laughing, I don't even remember if she ever said anything funny. Or coherent for that matter. However she did ask the audience for a semen and/or blood donation. I pictured what would result if I were to whip my dick out and start wanking on stage. Blood orgy? Bloodcults organising a blood orgy. That would be crazy. 

Ideas for signs on the door - “Must be HIV negative to enter.” “Free entrance for sufferers of Haemophilia and/or Stigmata”.

Anyway. About their set. The crowd could have been better, I think it was mostly friends-of-the-band at that point and it was generally pretty empty so there wasn't much movement. The best part of their set was the last song, not only was it the best song but the girl bit into a blood pack and started singing with it cascading down her shirt, her words sounding lispy, wet and horrible, screaming BLOODCULTS BLOODCULTS over and over. That was cool.

During the break not much happened. Just sat around and talked to some people.

When King Khan and BBQ came on stage they'd somehow managed to hang up a 6-foot tall golden sun. This was the backdrop to their flabby, sweaty sweat sweat party of a show. Building up to the show I had so much energy that I really needed to let out, I just wasn't sure if their music would bring it out of me. But fuck, it did.

They started the set fast loud and straight to the point. Hardly any introductions; a quick hello, a few strums of their guitars, a bass kick and they were gone. Racing, full-on into the night. It was wild. They finished the first song and went straight into the second; "zombies", which was the first song of theirs I’d ever heard a while back. I couldn't contain myself when that happened. I had to jump up to the front and thrust my arms out to them and yell all the words I knew as loud as I could. As much as it sucks to be that guy who only knows the words to one song, fuck it. After that song, the adrenaline was pumping, people were getting jumpier and the dirt was back. These two metal kids at the front row were flamming their heads hard, one dude mashing an imaginary guitar faster than jesus himself. We all coaxed Khan up towards us with our finger tips whilst he strummed faster and faster and faster.
During one of their chattery interludes we got a glimpse of Khan's gooch which he offered to us as a blessing, as if to simply say, "behold, here is my gooch.". I think it was one of the main non-musical events which opened the crowd up. Soon after, even the most reserved of women were tugging at his cape, making it fly as if he were standing atop a skyscraper. Others began doing the twist and lurkers at the back began taking more time with their beers in feeble attempts to stop themselves from dancing.

I can't forget to mention BBQ though. Watching him sing and play was incredible. I never realised he played the drums and guitar at the same time. And sang! Holy shit. That is nuts! His voice has a powerful presence and he can reach some impressive notes, not to mention his insane facial contortions whilst blowing bellowing Oooos and Aaaahahawaaawaaahss. I'm not sure how deeply they ranged throughout their discography but it didn't matter because all the songs they played were good. They kept me alive by giving me quick breaks of slow swaying singles, the kinds of song which would be great at a stereotypical high-school dance under a disco ball. Unfortunately my high school dance was in a night club and all I remember was giving some guy I didn't like the finger, my friend getting knocked out and then later dropping e, so I swayed by myself, closed my eyes and pictured that idyllic feeling of being a teen-movie teenager.

Despite their lack of sleep we managed to yell them back on for a 3-tier encore which ripped all the remaining energy out of my system and spat it on the beer-soaked stage whilst I got dry fucked by a drunk dude in work clothes. The show fucking kicked ass and I want you to go and see them when they come to your town.

Marcel Zanini et al., Le Petit Journal Montparnasse, Paris. 31st August

So this is my first post regarding a jazz show, I've always wanted to describe some of the amazing jazz shows I've been to in the past but I ended up throwing the ideas away simply because it seemed so daunting to try and sum up a jazz performance in words. Most music is pretty tough to describe nonetheless, but jazz is another level of complicated for me.

I was passing Le Petit Journal en-route to home. I tried arriving without any expectations because I know from previous experiences that going to jazz gigs in a place like LPJ can be really expensive. Fortunately I managed to squeeze in for free for the last half of their set, and thank fuck, there's no way I'm paying 25 euros for 2 hours of music. I got myself a glass of wine and sat in the back/middle somewhere, I had to move seats because a middle-aged couple in front of me kept making out and groping each other (which I don't blame them for, hell if I'd been there with a girl I would've been all over her) and it was distracting me from the music. Marcel Zanini himself has such a stand-out image; a short shuffling old man with a big shining bald head and thin grey wisps of hair lining the area above his ears, combined with round-rimmed glasses, a striking thick vein on the right side of his forehead and a really sincere crimpy happy-old-man smile.
The way they all manipulated sound with their instruments was exhilarating, I wished to god all the people sitting in front of me could just throw all their tables in the air and start dancing. I was torturing myself by sitting in that chair the whole time, I really wanted to get up and dance. There was a pretty girl sitting on the side who I tried giving the eye to every now and then but it was futile seeing as she was sitting with her boyfriend, and I'm not much for trying to pry girls from their men anyway. An older couple did get up to dance for a couple of numbers which was heart-warming, and no-one snickered or gave any negative vibes whatsoever, the room was all love the moment the music began. To the right of the stage there was a man with a name on the back of his shirt (presumably his own) who was painting a live portrait of the stage as he saw it, and considering he'd made it during their set, it really blew my mind.

The band set-up included a drum-set, double bass, trombone, piano and Marcel Zanini, who switched from clarinet to saxophone as well as singing. And for a few numbers a middle aged blonde woman came on stage from the crowd to sing and skat a while. She was exceptional, her voice reminded me of a trumpet at times, the way she sang it was as if she was blowing sounds out of her mouth, and when that happened her mouth seemed to be shaped in a very horizontal way, like a sideways O.

The music was so controlling, when they played fast numbers my feet and hands went nuts, slapping and jumping to their own rhythm, I wasn't even aware if they were moving in time, I felt no control over them any more. Even the painter had lost it, I noticed he was beating his brushes against the canvas without a care for what it might have been doing to his painting. I just wished everyone would have started dancing. Movies and books really spoil you on these occasions. It was during these moments, when I wasn't thinking about dancing, that I had the strongest desire to go skating (skateboarding), to slide and pop and revert around completely spontaneously with no direction at all. The great thing about skating, Paris and jazz is that you can go wherever you want with no direction and never stop because the streets are smooth and endless.

The slow songs were just as compelling. I was feeling exhausted from doing things all day so when these songs happened I simply closed my eyes and let the sounds roll in. Zanini's voice is so relaxing, you can feel his old vocal chords straining under the tension but it gives his voice an even better quality, like when you sit in an old piece of furniture and it takes a bit of time for your body to fit in but when you get comfortable no IKEA chair can compare. I was close to tears for one of his songs, simply because of the age in his voice and the purity of his clarinet notes, they swung into my body like waves, knocking my eyelids down and pushing my head back until it reached the backrest of my chair. I had the strongest urge to slow dance with a girl, just to simply move to the rhythm a step at a time. The bassist was on point, I don't remember seeing him look down at his instrument once. The drummer was incredible, during his solos he would keep the hi-hat skimming with his foot while his hands went nuts and the whole time the stage lights shone brilliantly off his bald head. The trombone player was great, its a really crazy instrument when you come to think about it, you really need to know the thing well in order to get that sound JUST right. The way he did it was very smooth and complex, jumping from his to lows without a falter. I didn't pay much attention to the pianist but he did his job well, its just a shame he was sitting far on the right because I couldnt really see him without craning my neck past the love-birds.

I left soon after the set ended, on the way out I shook Zanini's hand and felt very nervous whilst doing so. His hand felt soft and fragile in mine, and he almost seemed a little taken aback when I thanked him. Riding the bike back I could feel the cool night breeze against my face and I couldn't get the song from Ethan Fowler's Visual Sound part out of my head. Oh well, its still a damn good song.

Ethan

Monmon and Round Window @ Packhorse, 21st April

After finding out about the Monmon show a week ago the amount of time I spent listening to the tracks on their website gradually increased up till the 21st. There was something about the basslines and the lead guitar which played together so compatitively. At first I only listened to the track 'Whale', because it was the first on the list and it sounded damn good. After a couple of days I started giving the other tracks some time and.. dammnnn. I like his voice a lot, kind of raspy but clean at the same time, and the drum beats are simple and steady. A nice range of paces and vibes.

Anyway, I got to the Packhorse towards the end of Round window's set. I felt a little out of place because the majority of the crowd seemed in their 30s (don't get offended if I'm wrong, I'm not good at judging ages). After awkwardly dipping myself in and out of the crowd I managed to find a cave at the back and posted up. At first I thought 'uh-oh, Dad rock' - a judgement purely based on appearance rather than musical prowess. However into their second last song I realised these guys weren't playing covers of the Rolling Stones or Prince (thank fuck) but were playing some pretty decent originals. Their sound was somewhere in the indie/alt rock realm of things, simple yet effective riffs with a 90s-esque, feel-good kind of vibe. Sucks I only made it for the last 3 songs though, they seemed to be having a really good time.

Round window.. a view from the back. Nice hat

I went outside to rest my feet, I thought it would be safe enough to sit on the ledge opposite the pub as Otley-runners would be drawn towards either the bright glowing lights of Mahmoods or the comforting drunken yelling emanating from the Packhorse. I was so comfortable that I decided to lie down. Big mistake, I forgot how much drunk girls like to sit on my face. I suddenly heard some familiar student drawls of "oh ho, he looks fooked", and "why is he lieing down??". Then I hear "Lets sit on his face!", and suddenly some random girl has her panties hovering an inch from my nose. I didn't know whether to lift my tongue or yell. Can't a man lie on the street without having to think about sex for just 5 minutes? I was doing so well too..

Anyway, Monmon came on when I got back, the crowd wasn't too thick, probably around 30 people or so meaning I was more or less free to do what I wanted up at the front. Their first song wasn't that great to be honest, the lyrics were a bit cheesy, I'm not sure what it was called but it sounded kind of different to the songs I'd heard on their website. After that hump however they started playing some really awesome songs, both off and on the website. As a band they are really talented, extremely well co-ordinated and the guitar and bass work together to make great harmonies. One song I really like is "Roofie", the intro starts out heavy and grungey, the chorus lifts it up into the light temporarily and then the verse throws it back in the dirt. There was one slight dissappointment, the drummer didn't bother doing the catchy half-beat skippy thing at various points in the song but oh well, his call I guess. The bass lines were one thing that struck me, really solid and quite dark, at points complex but really easy to follow at the same time. Monkeyfist and Leeds Brig are good examples of this. I can't remember what song they thought they were ending on but we managed to yell them the fuck back on for another one, and thank god, they played Whale. I couldnt help but laugh to myself, it was the most perfect way for them to end it. I really suggest listening to that song on their site, the intro is so sick - the eerie wailing guitar which fades into rising and falling bassline, counterbalanced by a slow simple drum beat. The lyrics too… its good for swaying. All in all they are a sick band, 3 instruments is all they need to get their point across and I like that. Nothing too fancy, just straight up good music.

Listen to:
Round Window

Monmon

A sliver of silver...

PINBACK @ Brudenell, 30th November 2011

I don't know why I've procrastinated on this one. Well, it wasn't really my fault, I've been trying to write a report due in on the 4th and keep getting distracted by things I do/don't really care too much about. Yep.. the typical student "I'm a procrastinator look at me" bullshit. Anyway, I want to tell you about the Pinback gig. I actually really do want to tell you because I can honestly say it was the best show I have ever been too. Now, taking into account that pinback has been one of my favourite bands since i was about 15 or something, you might say that this is one biased-as-fuck review. And in response to that I say YES!! IT IS BIASED AS FUCKKK!! And rightly so, I reckon pinback is totally worthy of a bit of bias because they fucking destroyed the brudenell on the 30th, and if you ask anyone in the audience (besides the guy who complained to me about my dancing) they would most definitely agree with me.

JP inc giving the news report

 

First off, I got there a little late because Sainsbury's sucks at providing accessible money, so I skip in halfway through "JP incorporated”.. ahahahahhahaahha... it was hilarious, partly due to me having just arrived, and partly due to never seeing anything like it before. Picture this; a guy on stage with a fake grey beard doing jerky robot dance moves to cheesy keyboard rock singing TV jingles about such topics as strangers having the best candy, THE INTERNET, the usefulness of Steves and one of my favourites, bowl noodle hot japanese instant noodles. It was like watching a youtube video in real life. Check this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIaRb3OJWjU&feature=related, its definitely funnier to see it in person though because you don't know what the fuck is going on, and neither does anybody else.

I met a girl at the front who ended up becoming my pinback buddy for the evening which was rad, I've never been able to closely share a band like pinback with anyone besides my brother, so to meet a normal functioning human being who knew the words to the songs I did was quite exceptional. Too bad she doesn't like stalkers. The first song they played was Tres.. and it was all go from there. The moment those soft undulating piano keys fell on my head my mouth dropped. The emotion I felt from seeing/hearing them in the flesh was overwhelming, my hands cupped over my mouth like a preteen girl getting wet over the Jonas Brothers, my mouth gaping wide in uncontrollable glee. If only Pinback shot their hot white foam over our faces....

"its all right now.. come closer.. talk to me"... those words emanating inside me as the song ends and they continue on into a beautifully organised array of tracks encompassing all eras of their music, from the newest "Autumn of Seraphs" to the oldest "Pinback CD", played in a sporadic order so none of us could guess what to expect next.

 

Sweeeet

 

The girl I was with wanted to hear ‘Penelope’, and Penelope she got. By fuck she got it good. The drumming was a lot more intense, forcing me to dance even harder than I had anticipated, much to the dismay of one guy behind me who explained that my head rocking almost knocked his glasses off twice. Part of me felt bad, but part of me simply wanted to tell him to chill the fuck out. For one thing I was standing jammed at the front, if I had walked a couple of steps forward I would’ve been dry fucking the stage. And secondly, I have wanted to see this band for so long that I honestly didn't want to control myself. I used to look scornfully at those in the audience who seem to be going 'overboard' at shows, but in those moments I was too selfish to realise how music can affect people in ways which don't have explanations or justifications besides the fact that music is a powerful powerful thing. I think it was during one of their newer songs, maybe 'Devil you Know', when I my hair was fluffed angrily by the unhappy musicgoer. So what the fuck was I supposed to do about it? Suppress my feelings of overwhelming joy? Fuck that.

Zack... duh

I have also come to realise how talented Zack, the bassist, really is. Not only does he play extremely tech riffs, off-beat and confusing and fuck, but he manages to sing perfectly in time and pitch as well. Halfway through a song one of his bass strings broke, which I later stuffed in my back pocket. Thanks Zack, my super wall looks alternative now

aww yeeah

It was around two-thirds through the set that I really stopped caring about the people around me and their non-existent judgements, and during the best song of the night: Prog. This was my first Pinback song ever, from one of my favourite skate videos of all time; Transworld's 'In Bloom', which my brother showed me in 2003 or something. Obviously this song held a lot of meaning for me so it made sense to go fucking nuts. From afar the verse and chorus seem so different, but when you put them together in complete song they become so beautifully complementary. The verses acting as one big suspense builder, then the first chorus just a light drop of sugar on the tongue to keep you wanting more before skipping back to the verse. And then, the ultimate chorus of all time. The guitar riff, setting the most positive, uplifting vibe as lead singer Rob's awesomely held notes carry my vocal chords up and up whilst the drums continue getting louder and louder. The state of euphoria was unbelievable, I was on the verge of tears but I just kept jumping up and down, up and down. All the while screaming "keep that loveee, rightt theeeeerrreeeeee".. fucking awesomeeeee! I now know my lyrics are wrong but they sound right when you’re yelling.

Other highlights included Fortress, where Rob simply dropped the guitar, picked up the mic and MC’d whilst Zack started busting out some discoey keyboard rhythms. The few times I glanced around the crowd I got some really happy vibes, everyone was bopping and I felt like they had a real appreciation for the music. Rob fell into the crowd and had a little wonder around to check it out too.

The crowd during Fortress

They ended on a killer encore which included around 3 songs, in particular AFK, one of their more aggressive songs which sent electric jolts down my spine and another hot filthy wave of sweat out of my glands. Considering how long they have been playing for, and all the potential dangers time can have on your vocal chords/enthusiasm, every song sounded as good, if not better than on their studio albums.

I realise this is a really long piece but whatever... I'm just happy to be sharing it. If you go see a band you love in future just go wild and fuck what anyone else thinks, the band could die tomorrow in a horrible bus crash or sink on their ferry to Ireland so you might as well enjoy them to the full while you still can.

Zack me and Rob.. stokeddd!

Listen to some pinback:
Prog
Loro
Concrete Seconds
Good to Sea

Dick Venom & the Terrortones, X Ray Cat Trio and Black Moth @ Milo, 28th October 2011

Reeling from the stench of some girl's privates

Tonight I got drunk and went to see Black Moth play at Milo with my good friend "Chris", if that is his real name. The moment we pulled up at the bar the floor was taken by a group of 4, the lead singer dressed as a bloody bride, his waxed up mohawk cradled by dried beans, the bassist wearing flexy shiney black stretch pants and a guitar that seemed to be made out of futuristic dildos, a lankey guitarist painted up like a monochrome scarecrow and a drummer dressed as a normal person. We couldn't have asked for a better way to start the night. I don't know the name of the band, and I don't think I ever will, but they still killed it. The singer was all over the place, leaning into people, sticking his head up girl's crotches.. he was a real pioneer. The chaotic sloppiness of their sound greatly complimented my level of drunkenness, if not heightening it a little. I just checked the internet; the band was called Dick Venom and the Terrortones. Explains a lot… especially the bass guitar.

Boner vision

Me and "Chris" went around the corner and bought some cheap beers, sat and discussed some shit, then proceeded to check out the second band, evidently called X Ray Cat Trio. Their sound was very rockabilly, and when I noticed the guy going wild on a double bass my enthusiasm exploded. Their sound made me want to get up and hoe down, so thats what I did. For some of their songs anyway. I was buzzing at this point so a fast snare drum and jumping bassline was fuckin perfect, along with some semi-serious sideburns. One thing that came to grow on me about the venue was the closeness between the audience and band, we were on exactly the same level, and the space was so cramped that they were literally playing/singing in our faces. They played a cover of a sam barrett song which went down so well, it fit the vibe well, and it was awesome to sing that particular song at the running pace set by the drums and bass. I was busting to piss by the last song, apparently it was amazing and included a ridiculous bass solo but I missed it as I was too busy releasing urine from my bladder.

XRCT et al., 2011

I have to mention, during XRCT’s set a cop van pulled up outside to cart away a crazed shirtless dude who according to a friend is a local to many rock shows here in leeds and is often one to get in insane fights, so to pass the time whilst Black Moth set up I imagined how fucked up I would get were I to pick a fight with him. It was pretty one-sided, and picturing the image of his over-tensed neck tendons, intimidating tattoos and bulging eyeballs kind of scared me into submission from the beginning. It wasn’t that great of a daydream to be honest. Part of the fun of that night was watching him approach girls, first grabbing their asses and then when they turn around simply staring at them with his tongue lolling out. That guy's got serious guts! I bet when he does pull a girl its like WWE wrestling but naked, and with better intro music.

Black Moth came on with that song I've heard them play before which always gets me in the mood; the chorus is so intense, the bass and guitar fall down down down downnn, and her singing catches it delicately and then flings it back down again, deep into the chasm of mothy darkness. Black Moth girl was seductive as usual, and judging by the guys at the front checking her out I'm sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way. I was bummed about the speaker setup though as I couldn't hear her singing very well over the instruments. The solos and riffs were all on point as usual, really dark and menacing. These guys always kill it in the instrumental department, I just fucking wish I could've jumped around as much as in Santiago's a while back...

This is what English girls look like without fake-tan

Despite the distortion of her voice I still got the gist of every song, and they still managed to get me moving a decent amount. All I wanted was to sway around and get people shoving and jumping, maybe feel the refreshing swash of beer down my neck as I bump into the unsuspecting girlfriend of a bystander, but the venue wasn't right for it. The band space was right at the door, so people were constantly passing back and forth, and it was quite a narrow space to move around in. But then again, I was being a bit of a pussy that night so that’s mainly to blame. On the plus side, I did get a nice old tap on the shoulder and a condescending warning not to move around too much so all in all I would consider it a success.

But she's still hot

"Hallow be thy ween"

Chris's Corner: Emmy the Great @ The Brudenell Social Club, Leeds, 9th October 2011.

Here we go shitheads! Probably one of the best show reviews I've ever read: adding a master of a piece to his growing collection, homie Chris recollects a "nice" night out at the Brudenell featuring Emmy The Great:

We were sat in the cafe at the end of our street listening to avante garde jazz played by fantastic musicians in white turtlenecks when we decided to go and see Emmy the Great. Rachna had been umming and ahhing because she wanted to go and see another gig next week and couldn’t afford both, but she decided to come with me. We put the chess sets and dominoes away and slinked out as best we could, trying not to catch anyone on the waiting staffs eye due to guilt about having sat there for an hour without ordering anything. Ben and Serbia headed into town, and Rachna and I started off for the Brudenell, discussing whether we’d rather be stabbed multiple times by a smelly old man and then pissed upon till we croaked, or die peacefully asleep in bed one sunny Sunday morn but live five years fewer. It was a real philosophical debate I can tell you and it kept us occupied with hypotheticals and pontifications all the way there.
 

I had sort of wanted to see Emmy the Great play since I saw she was coming to Leeds a few weeks ago, but I had harboured a small doubt that she might be disappointing, and that £12.50 was a little too much to gamble in order to find out. I mean, if she was a horse, the odds wouldn’t be favourable. I’d put two pounds each way maybe. Anyway, the girl at the entrance asked for £15. Fuck! I looked at Rachna and I think I muttered something about it being ‘rather expensive’ that made me sound like an old man, but we paid our money and went inside. I had to buy a beer to get over the damage to my wallet. I had given the girl twenty quid and she hadn’t even had the decency to pay me back a fiver, just five heavy pound coins, each one sitting in my pocket and weighing me down, having a good time at my expense. 

Then we went and found a place to stand by the edge of the stage. There was quite a lot of people to be honest: ranked out of all the times I’ve been to the Brudenell it was up there in a category I call ‘fairly busy’. There was a bit of sound-checking, and then Emmy stepped on stage, by herself. I knew she was good looking before but wow, if I was from London then I would describe her as ‘buff ting’ or ‘peng’ or something appropriate like that. She was pretty much beautiful. She looked around the room a bit, finger picked a C chord for a few seconds on a large glittery hollow-body electric, fiddled with a few knobs and then began. She has a great voice and I know she writes lyrics which are shockingly good at times, but I couldn’t really connect with this first song. Halfway through, in a break in the singing she looked around the crowd and definitely looked at me for about three quarters of a second, maybe more! The look she gave me was probably more disdain than desire, but it set my imagination of down a chain of events where she comes back to my place and has a threesome with me and my guitar. I didn’t even realise the first song was over, I was too busy inspecting her flawless jaw line and wondering how much further forward I might have to shuffle in order to get a glimpse up her skirt.

 In all seriousness the lyrics were a little too distant for me to relate to in that first song. Something about shivah, and an elephants head got mentioned too. Then her band came onstage, and they played about eight or nine songs, the majority of which were off her second album which I haven’t heard. To be honest, it was all a bit nice and poppy-folky. The drum beat and bass gave a great rhythm to the songs that led to me finding myself just nodding my head and not paying much attention to the words that were being sung. It was easy listening, and it always sounded good, but it was just a bit bland and lacking in edge for me. The lyrics and solo acoustic guitar work were what I had really wanted to hear. 

Then the guitarist and drummer left the stage and they announced the last song which involved Emmy singing while accompanied by emotional keyboard and a bit of sporadic bass. It was nice but it meant nothing to me. Then they left, and after a few shouts for encore Emmy came back on and started taking requests. This was by far the best bit of the evening. We got to hear four more songs, among them ‘Canopies and Drapes’ featuring lyrics like:

 Later on me and a bottle will hook up to have some fun
Then I'll call your house at twelve to let you know that I'm drunk
Say I'm sorry Mr C, I was just looking for your son
How are you, incidentally, do you know if he's out alone?
There is this book he lent to me something like seven months ago
I'm gonna burn it in the street be so kind as let him know

So overall, it was nice, but I think that words sums it up entirely. It was only nice and not much else. It was like having a chocolate hobnob and a cup of tea whilst checking your emails and putting on your favourite pair of socks; nice, yet plainly lacking.

Brudenell take heed: I feel that instead of £15, £7 would be a fair price to pay if I was to consider attending another of her gigs and eye fucking her again.

Blacklisters @ Nation, 1st October 2011

So I can safely say I finally experienced a pit at a Blacklisters show. Well… yeah fuck it, I would call it a pit. And to top it off I actually initiated it. Ignore any hints of self-centeredness in that sentence because I did it out of pure frustration. Normally I prefer to dance my own way and hope someone else has the balls to make that big jump into the mass to create the spark which lights up the pit for the rest of the show, but this time it wasn’t going to happen, and I just couldn't hack being surrounded by mannequins unwilling to lose a drop of their 3/4 full pints of beer. Although Billy (BL singer) did slop his way into the crowd a couple times whilst on his usual possessed ramblings, it didn't seem to be enough to get people REALLY moving, and as soon as he moved back onto the stage the shoving stopped. 

Talons presenting some crazy violin moshing

It was around 3 or 4 songs in, I think during OK47, when I decided to jump on the guy in the middle wearing a BL t-shirt - I figured he of all people would be most understanding of my actions. And fortunately, he was! The running basslines built the tension so fucking well, and when the screaming garbles of nothing are thrown on top it mixed with ejaculations of cymbal and screeching guitars it stirs something uncontrollable within me. At one stage there were about 4 of us tangled in a swaying bunch, tripping over the guitar pedals, smashing glasses and knocking shit over. It felt good, really really good. I was so sick of keeping things bottled in, I wanted to let it the fuck out and the music was so right for it. When we all fell on the ground I hit my head pretty hard but it didn't phase me, I kind of wanted more, so on the way home I picked fights with anyone who looked at me, especially girls in mini-skirts and stilettos (THEY LAV A GOOD FOIGHT!) and then I downed a couple of WKD’s and smashed the bottle over my eyeballs.  

It’s a shame BL doesn't get on the hardcore/punk circuit, I'd kill to see the band playing to an entire audience going ballistic, as I'm sure the band would too. I know for a fact that fans of BL really love the music, I just get the impression they are just too afraid to express it physically. Take what you will from that, but when I'm hearing Billy scream combined with those evil, twisted guitar/bass riffs and pounding drums I can't control myself anymore. And there's no way in fuck that I'm the only one there who feels that. No way. I think it’s mostly to do with the locations and nights they play at, take the Brudenell for example, most times I’ve seen them there the audience isn’t really a heavy, loud crowd so a pit never materialises. To be honest if I hadn't jumped into the front line like I did I don't think much else would have happened, call me egoistic but I know from past experiences it would've been tame as fuck. The only times people went uncontrollable were when I flung myself into them, there were even a couple of moments when I had the entire front space to myself. But despite my bitching I loved every moment of that show; the energy was there although it did need a little coaxing, and a certain few people really let some shit out. But hey, maybe I'm wrong and no-one out there wants to start a pit. If that’s the case, then all the more reason for BL to give the Leeds grind/hardcore/punk scene a shot. If you're unsure of what I'm talking about check out collective zine http://www.collective-zine.co.uk/cboard/.

And so they ended their set on trickfuck, always a good way to end it. Everyone at the front became one big sweaty orgy of yells, sweat and t-shirts, and my ears were still ringing 24 hours later.

Yes, you are just a trick fuck

The two other bands that played that night were really good too, normally I would write more but I've already written a load and can't really be fucked.. Check out their myspaces though: 

David's Lyre:

http://www.myspace.com/thisisdavidslyre

They were a nice and warm group with some solid drum beats and well blended guitar/synth riffs. The singer had a pretty resonating voice, and I had a pretty comfortable chair so I was loving it.

Talons:

http://www.myspace.com/gotalons

A group of what I assume to be students played some insanely theatrical instrumental madness, which at times reminded me of stuff like Children of Bodom, just less carcinogenic. The two violins were a really good addition, without them it wouldn't have sounded as impressive, and the fact that you could hear them through the ridiculously fast drumming and guitars was awesome. More props to the drummer, that guy was a serious machine. Haven't seen drumming that intense since the wildlife fest.

We destroyed that glass

And then the guitarist got mad at us and went home

Oh, and here's a link to some BL music: http://soundcloud.com/blacklisters/sets

HYPE! Pinback @ Brudenell on 30th of November!!

I've been waiting for this day for a longgg time....

 Tickets are 11 dollarydoos from those record stores in town. go go go!

Tera Melos, Tangled Hair & Iveree @ The Cooler, Bristol. 8th June 2011

I've been a pretty strong supporter of Tera Melos for a while, but having said that it feels like quite an overstatement as I have only really listened to 1 of 8 releases, that being the Drugs to the Dear Youth EP which I had on repeat for about two weeks after downloading acquiring it. Listening to 'A spoonful of slurry' and '40 rods to the hogs head' would send me into fits in my chair, my fingers would get tense as if I was being tazed, I couldn't picture how nuts I would go if I got to see them live.

Me and my friend Martin (who was putting me up for the week) got to the venue a little early so after a street beer we came back in to find a young band by the name of Iveree playing surrounded by a shitload of hot girls. It was so confusing; I didn't know hot girls were into math-rock! Fuck yeah!

The band, to be honest, sounded mediocre. I think in time they would improve but at the moment their sound is still a little under-developed. They played mostly indie music, with some pretty cool tapping riffs every so often. There were moments when the harmonies between instruments really shone, however the singing was lacking in presence. His voice was often hard to understand over the instruments and I feel like he sounded too over-emphatic at times. Combining that with a posh English twang turns me off, reminding me too much of the singer from the Kooks. That being said they weren't a terrible band; I think the singer just needs to try a little less.

We went and grabbed another beer afterwards and came back in to find less hot girls and a band called Tangled Hair on the stage. It all started making sense to me... but at the same time it didn't, why would they pay 8 pounds to see the opener and leave? Whatever… I could tell from the start that the band was something special. Their sound was quite indie but with some really tasty interspersed mathy instrumentals, and the drummer was full of random anecdotes and words to fill the museum silence between songs. The singer/drummer had a really unique voice, quite soft but he could hit some really high notes. More about the instrumental sections: fuck they were awesome, it was a perfect relationship between the drums and guitars as they rose and fell in alternating patterns, adding a post-rocky vibe to some songs. Listen to “Campfires” on their bandcamp and you’ll know what I mean. Though I didn’t know any of their songs they were really easy to dance to. I'm quite disappointed we only got to see the last half of their set, but as they're an up-and-coming band I'm sure they'll come up to Leeds at some point. I fuckin hope they do anyway.

One more street beer later we were back in the Cooler for Tera fuckin Melos. My excitement was reaching tipping point by now; the moment of ecstasy was finally going to arrive…

As it turned out they only played one song that I knew (more about that later), delving more into their new album and tracks which included singing; something quite unfamiliar to my knowledge of TM, but it really worked for some songs. One in particular was ‘The Surf Skin’, the vocals and guitar riffs played together nicely and the song kept coming back to me several weeks after the show despite never having heard the song before. I guess in TM’s case they use their voices as instruments more than word-producing holes, as I didn’t grasp a single word the entire set.

A lot of their songs were of really epic proportions, almost too epic for the sound system as at times the noises became a jumbled mess of CHRRRRRRRAARRRRR which was so overwhelming; all I could do was stand there and take it in. When I could hear the notes hit though, fuck it felt gooood.

Having reminisced more about that night I’ve come to realise that they were unbelievable, and I’m referring to the whole set here - the fact that they managed to last so long in that stuffy venue and maintain the stamina to pull off every song with such force, velocity and accuracy. There was a period when the guitarist was so absorbed by his crazy-ass riffs that he started jolting up and down as if nuts were hooked up to a car battery, his sweat shooting off his fringe like a water sprinkler.

The highlight of the night for me was when they played their final song, off the Drugs to Dear Youth EP. When he mentioned the word ‘old’ my heart jumped. I had been waiting for this moment for so long, I was caught unawares and had to spring my legs into action. After one of the members left the stage the shred began to commence. The guitar tapped its way in and that bass pedal hit just when I expected. It wasn’t… it couldn’t be… YES, it was!!! 40 RODS TO THE HOGSHEAD MOTHERFUCKER!!! I was so happy, I started running on the spot, I don’t even know what the fuck I was doing but it felt so good, the drummer was rolling all over his tom-toms, the guitarist was dipping his feet in and out and the bass continued to twirl its way around and around tying the chaotic mess up in a neat little ball. I really couldn’t contain myself. There is one part of the song that really kills me (around 5.30 minutes), it feels like I'm standing under a waterfall, fuck the poetic meanings, it really feels like a waterfall over me. The whole song builds up to this overwhelming wash of pure golden sound, and then all of a sudden it cuts back to sprinting pace. Just like that. Fuck.. It was one of the most blissful 30 seconds of my life. I felt like a douche afterwards for only going mental when they played a song I could recognise but fuck it. It was so good.

The night was an overall success, for sure. Even Martin enjoyed it which is cool considering he’s not really into that kind of music, and to see TM is like going from zero to 60. The only downside for me was that they didn’t play a lot of their old songs, but when he mentioned that they made those songs about 8 years ago I sympathised a little more, no matter how awesome the song it would get pretty stale having to play it continuously for 8 years. I’m pretty sure everyone who came crashed the fuck out the moment they got home, it was so exhausting. I just want to thank them for playing a song off the drugs to dear youth, it totally rekindled my joy of music-induced epilepsy.

Check out their online music listening platformorators:

Tangled Hair: http://tangledhair.bandcamp.com/

Iveree: http://www.myspace.com/ivereeuk 

Tera Melos: http://teramelos.bandcamp.com/

Pale Man Made, The Union Choir and Blood Oranges @ Packhorse, 14th May

Went to the Packhorse for a show on the 14th, tried calling some people up but thankfully no-one responded so I went on my own. I wasn't really feeling like hanging out with people I know, I wanted to simply be alone and listen to some music, so it's quite contradictory for me to have called people up but it was more like a polite thing to do so if anyone got upset I could at least say "yeah but I called you up"... real sneaky. I've noticed how there seems to be a stigma regarding going to shows alone - as if it were a waste of time or just a strange thing for a person to do, but some of the best shows I've seen were when I was alone. Take Birthmark or example. No unneccessary need to start conversations, no uneasiness about whether or not your friends are having a good time, just simply enjoying the music and doing whatever you feel like doing... Don't take me wrong, its awesome to see a band with friends, but sometimes it's nice to have the band all to yourself.

The bands were fuckin sick that night. The lineup included 2 bands from Newcastle (Pale Man Made, The Union Choir) and a band of local students (Blood Oranges).
Pale Man Made was probably my favourite performance of the evening, I showed up around halfway through their set. Their sound was kind of indie mixed with some lo-fi elements, so at times it was upbeat and at others quite emotional. Their sound actually at times reminded me of my ex-girlfriend. Not really a particular memory as such, but just a really strong feeling - you know what I mean? Don't mean to sound depressing, thats just how I felt at the time. They had a really experienced sound, I could tell they'd been playing for a while, and the bassists fingers were so damn stretchy.. I bet she could palm a basketball as if it were an apple. Pretty much every song was amazing, it just sucked I didn't know any of the words because they would've been so fun to sing along to. I pictured being on a big 60s dancefloor with everyone just swaying and spinning around. But I was at a live show so I had to be content just bouncing around a bit. The guy and girl singing took turns, the girl sounded really mellow and warm, the guy was more edgy and loud, so they blended together nicely. I ended up buying their old album - check it out if you get the chance, its pretty sick. Quite melancholy, their set seemed quite lively in comparison, I think they were playing a lot of their newer stuff.

I met a dude named Aaron after that set, real funny guy just gettin drunk and yelling stupid shit at the bands and gettin them hyped. Shows need more people like him, it definitely eases any awkward tension.

Union choir came on next, Aaron made a pretty accurate judgement about the band after the first 30 seconds, that all the additional instruments (the cello, the violin and sax) were there just for show. For the first 3 songs that was definitely the case, with most of the emphasis being put on the guitar, bass and keyboard, but as their set progressed their songs gradually improved and each instrument played more of a noticebale role.. Except for the cello - which kinda sucked to be honest. A nice deep cello note would have been perfect for some songs. I think her pick ups weren't working great that night. The band was more melodical than Pale Man, and the singers voice seemed a bit exaggerated at times. Overall it was alright. There were a couple of moments where the harmony between instruments really hit me deep, but overall Pale Man was more for me.

Blood oranges came on last, they all got on stage and from the moment the lead singer/peter griffin lookalike started speaking I just felt so happy. They all radiated really positive energy and it came through in their music. It was the funnest set of the night, if not the funnest I've had since seeing Reverend Peyton or The Afternoon Gents. They came on wearing pictures of the dudes from BLU around their necks, in honor of their glorious performance at the eurovision contest, and the lead singer was funny as fuck. Their sound was of indie-pop bordering pop-punk, really upbeat, quite fast paced and to do with love, relationships and stuff like that. The girl on keyboard had a cool voice, cutesy but not sickly, it complemented the guy's voice really well. The fact that the singing was shared between genders gave a much deeper meaning to each song, like a story being told from either perspective of an ending relationship. The bassist was pretty cool, stuck to simple riffs which was perfect for their music - I respect bassists that can do that, whenever I play I often get really bored and try to get all technical and just end up fucking it up. She was also pretty sexy. The drumming was intense, reallllly fast and really on time, like pop punk with 2 extra beats per second. Towards the end they handed round some fruity champagne to comemorate their boys BLU, that was pretty awesome.. I was pretty dehydrated so it went to my head pretty quick.

Awesome show, I was getting stir-crazy from revising and sick of watching porn out of boredom so seeing these bands was exactly what I needed... Pale man and Blood oranges do shows quite often so check them out if you get the chance!

Myspaces
Pale Man Made
The Union Choir
Blood Oranges