SATURDAY 15 April
I’d helped out setting up the festival for a couple of
afternoons before Fat Out Fest began, folding programs, shifting crates of beer
and dressing The Bernard, a warehouse venue only used on Sunday. I was also on
a bar shift for the first half of Saturday, which tied me to the Caustic
Coastal warehouse space. This turned out to be quite fortunate as This Heat
drummer Charles Hayward’s new quartet Data Quack happened to be playing there
and turned out to be the band I enjoyed the most on Saturday, maybe even the
whole weekend. First they had to find their way there and we had to show them
the route to their soundcheck. Volunteer organiser Sophie Bee told me to do
anything Charles Hayward asked me, unaware that we’d met before. “Don’t worry,”
joked Charles, “Anything of a sexual or perverted nature is already catered
for!” The funniest question I asked anyone that weekend was directed to the
young lady who plays keyboards in Data Quack. I asked Merlin how she met
Charles Hayward. “Er, I’m his daughter,” was her reply. Only then did I notice
their facial similarity. Data Quack also feature Housewives saxophonist Ben.
Their music is a cathartic textured clatter and clang that had me in the moment
completely for most of the set when I wasn’t picking up cups and cans. They
haven’t released any recordings yet, but told me there are plans to do so.
Before the music began we had a lunch break upstairs in Sophie Gardner’s Mother
May I kitchen. The tomato based stew was one of the most delicious meals I’ve
ever eaten, and the good news is she’ll be selling her amazing vegan gluten
free food in the Mill at Sounds from the Other City (April 30) and is available
for hire for festivals and events. Later she served an almost as delicious mild
curry. The silliest performance I witnessed all weekend was the first one to
enliven Caustic Coastal. Lone Taxidermist’s Trifle play light industrial disco,
but the focus is on their daft performance antics. Kitted out in dayglo toytown
bondage gear, a group of ladies enticed anyone brave enough to joining in their custard swilling and
trifle smearing whilst on the big screen naked butts painted red sat in cream
cakes. Eventually they got a bunch of people under a plastic sheet and covered
it in trifle. After a quick clean up, a solo Irma Vep sang his blues as he
quaffed free booze. Edwin Stevens kept the room enthralled with only guitar
picking and almost mumbled singing, a total contrast to the Trifle queens.
After the glorious Data Quack attack, Berlin based Japanese duo Group A treated
us to some violent industrial beats. Nick Cave once said something about Blixa
Bargeld’s scream sounding like a man having thistles torn from his soul and
Sayaka Botanic’s distorted violin invokes similar demons. Tommi Tokyo
punctuates her bold enunciations by smashing a knife onto a metal bar making a
harsh metallic crash or scrape. It proved difficult to tear myself away from
their sweet deadly din in time to catch busy drummer Andrew Cheetham in an
improvising duo with head Tonk honkster saxophonist Colin Webster in the bed
and breakfast space. Andrew is quite likely the best drummer in Manchester right
now, certainly the most individual, and can also be found behind the kit with
Easter and Desmadrados Soldados de Ventura. The only seat left in the room was
on a sofa right next to the drums, so I got a grand view as he tapped and tumbled
around Colin’s high honk factor. In the dark Burrow London progpunk purveyors Teeth
of the Sea were down a man but still put on a climactic performance even if
they couldn’t reach the heights they did last time I saw them when they
soundtracked looped excerpts from the apocalyptic Scottish cannibal punk film
“Doomsday.” I’ve seen Sly and the Family Drone play in a house (Anson Corner)
and in a tiny Fallowfield bar basement and given myself ear damage drumming
along with them so I kept well back when they
infested the Burrow with their raucous racket. With incredible brutal
drum and sax duo Dead Neanderthals and their regular collaborator Colin Webster
adding to the noise, this emerged as a much more nuanced and structured set than
Sly would normally try. What it lacked in chaos was made up for in dynamics and
ultra-high honk factor, however Dead Neanderthals didn’t scale the relentless
peaks they did in a disused bank vault a couple of weeks before. Back in
Caustic Coastal the abrasive industrial beats of Author & Punisher proved
the perfect soundtrack to crush empty drink cans to. Maybe it was this that
shook the roof apart so that the venue became too dangerous to be used on
Sunday! After that it was party time…
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