Patrick & Miriam's Birthday 3.5

3-4.5 Didn't we have a fine old time at Mr Manchesterband Recording Maestro Patrick Crane's thirtieth birthday? I gave him CDs by Neil Young, Killing Joke, Can and Fugazi. The Neil Young "Chrome Dreams II" CD was particularly appropriate as he was wearing a Crazy Horse T-shirt and played guitar on a cover of "Cortez the Killer" with Former Bullies in Nick Mitchell's back garden. Then Sex Hands played and afterwards Dylan Hughes denied singing about Joincey Jmbebe's drug intake. Those misheard lyrics are always a hoot. You say it's your birthday? It's Miriam's birthday too! I gave Ma Ve records by Public Image Ltd, Siouxsie and the Banshees and The Fall and we danced to "Trans" by Neil Young, The Stooges' "Funhouse" and Nirvana's "Incesticide" whilst Martin Warm Widow fell on top of Clive and knocked him out of his wheelchair. Dazz Gofti got the drunkest I've ever seen him, Patrick passed out, Nick and Kate Armitage fled to bed and I passed out snuggled up to Miriam on the couch then woke to a strange hallucination that Clive was asleep on the floor when he wasn't, walked home across the park to the dawn chorus and slept until high noon when it was time to get ready for the best ever Sounds From the Other City.

The Body & Irma Vep 23.4

The Body / Arabrot / Esoteric Youth / Trojan Horse - The Roadhouse
dbh / Irma Vep / Dave and Otto - Kraak Gallery April 23rd 2014

April 2014 appears to be a time of maximum acceleration, at least where the Manchester live music scene is concerned. There have been days like this when I've been aware of four good gigs happening simultaneously. On April 23rd I made it to two gigs and only completely missed one set; Serfs played Kraak whilst I watched The Body headline the Roadhouse. Fresh from his Record Store Day triumph, when he'd performed in five different bands, Edwin Stephens was back with his solo mutter-blues guitar strumming incarnation of Irma Vep at a free gig he'd organised himself. First to play were Dave and Otto, a free improv sax and double bass duo whose dynamic interplay ranged from almost silence to full on blow-out. I had to leave before they finished to catch Trojan Horse opening a minute's walk away in the Roadhouse. They introduced a song in which the bassist and guitarist marched and saluted as concerning being unemployed. I caught the lyric "Market town, beats his wife to the ground" and that was the last time I could hear what anyone screamed for the rest of the Roadhouse gig, such was the extreme volume and vocal violence. I appreciate the fact that I can't think of another band to compare Trojan Horse to, such is the originality of their proggy hardcore. The two guitarists and keyboard player had the grunge checked shirt look that was so very fashionable in the nineties. One song found them all cackling with silly Satanic laughter and they saved the best for last. Esoteric Youth were an exhilarating blast of total hardcore venom. At times they had a "Loose Nut" era Black Flag metallic edge, and the screamer flailed about in front of the stage for the entire set. They were so loud it was painful to be anywhere closer than halfway along the room and during the last song they were joined by a second screamer. Having bought one of their last five 7" EPs "The Burden of Living" I was quite pleased to find that something they are so angry about is that "We are a burden on the planet Earth." Rushing back to Kraak I saw the ever baseball hatted Edwin play a solo Irma Vep set for the second time in one week. He always has a look about him that suggests he's surprised to be singing and looks up as if expecting the audience to have gone. One morose ditty found him proclaiming, "There is a beauty in grown men crying, shaking in a cold and empty room." I can't say I can concur with that sentiment, but it is nevertheless a great song. I returned to the Roadhouse just before Norwegians Arabrot fired up their tribal grunge rock rhythms. Guitarist Kjetil wore a cool wide brimmed hat that did not detract from their chugging menace. Since last I saw them the bassist had switched to drums and a new bass playing lady had joined them, indulging in some feral screaming at times and stomping her leg in time with their compulsive convulsive beat. At one point she pulled her mic stand almost over, shreiked into it and tipped it up again which was the coolest move of the night. The tribal element was enhanced by a tall lady who joined them on a second drum kit for the last and longest song. I only caught the last song of the dbh solo guitar set at Kraak, but I've heard tall Dan play so many times in so many bands it wasn't a big deal. Probably the most gifted and prolific musician on the Manchester underground, he finished with what sounded like a Papa M cover. There are only two men in Rhode Island sludge metal machine The Body, but they sound like an earthquake. A sample of a disappointed American woman gave way to nihilistic screams and a tectonic rumble that probably had yuppy neighbours hiding under the tables in the flats down the road. The guitarist was big and fat and bearded and you wouldn't want him to fall on you. The drummer raised sticks high in the air with a demonic anger and crashed them into his kit like he wanted to kill it. One onslaught began with an air raid siren; a soundtrack of disaster. Off to one side in the Roadhouse I had a great view of the action as the audio violence was too extreme to damage my ears with out in front of the PA! It was a performance of total catharsis and a short eruption of that ubiquitous "Scentless Apprentice" Nirvana beat had me singing Kurt Cobain's words to The Body just for a moment.

Gallon Drunk @ Academy 3 15.4.2014

Gallon Drunk have always guaranteed a good night out. Frontman James Johnston's hair might've turned grey since last I saw them but they still have more fire and passion than the infinite swarms of younger rock'roll bands getting hyped yur way, so it was a great disappointment to see such a low turnout. Support band Mowbird played their pleasant though unadventurous indie rock to less than fifty people. At least by the time Gallon Drunk took the stage the gathering had swollen to treble figures. They didn't so much take the stage as take over the stage, with James Johnston raging and ranging over every inch not covered by synth, drum kit or amps. They opened with the first song from their recent 'Soul of the Hour' album, building an inexorable instrumental intro to an ecstatic crescendo before dropping away briefly; then James hit the mic and sang: "And when you're feeling so alone, And only you know, That your hand can barely write." To begin with "Before the Fire," a redemptive noir epic about finally feeling the fire of love just when you feel as though you're about to drown in selfish solitude was perfect. If "The Exit Sign" ignited the fire with an apocalyptic party that never ends, "Hanging On" set the whole town ablaze and the flames danced for the rest of the night, consuming us all in celebratory frenzy. "It doesn't feel like the party's started with you all so far away," James admonished jovially after the first song, and everyone edged closer to the stage so that he could swing his guitar out over our heads and even let Neil and Louise of 2 Koi Karp and Terminal Cheesecake have a bash at the strings near the end of the gig. One old bald fellow had the honour of that guitar finely balancing on his head for twenty seconds or so! These are the wilder benefits of the capo. The next thing we knew James was bashing it on the rigging up above, and at the end of the last song of the main set, an extended overdriven take on "The Speed of Fear," he slung it over bassist Leo Kurunis' shoulder so that he had a bass on his front and a guitar on his back. Terry Edwards handled all the synth and keyboard playing, and some of his trumpet and sax parts seemed to have been synthesised, but he still had a good old baritone sax blast. "The Speed of Fear" had an especially energising keyboard loop that sounded like guitar, and at around twice the duration of the album version was a finale as grand as they come "Down here in the city's night again." "Just One More" was the oldest song in the set, and clearly Gallon Drunk aren't feeling nostalgic. Why should they when their two most recent albums are the best they've made, and the first and last songs from 'The Soul of the Hour' are probably their best songs yet.

SETLIST:
Before the Fire
The Exit Sign
Hanging On
Just One More
Bad Servant
Soul of the Hour
Killing Time
Traitors' Gate
The Speed of Fear

You Made Me
Some Cast Fire

This review appears in Que Vida 1; pick up a copy at Kraak Gallery, Gullivers or other Northern Quarter, Manchester venues.

Bo Ningen / The Ace of Spades

12.5 Bo Ningen were even better than expected down Deaf Institute last night and I've reviewed the gig for Que Vida 2. A gig at Deaf Institute is always a good one to do sober as the drinks are so greedily over-priced, like they are at Sandbar over the road. Having drunk so much cider and wine on Saturday and in the week before it seemed a good idea to stop before I become a functioning alcoholic; I've started smuggling cheaper off licence booze into Interzone's more over-priced pubs and bars as I have no money coming in. In theory I should be getting paid for some reviews and should also be getting "Job Seekers Allowance" but the Kafka-esque bureaucracy involved seems to take up more time and writing than writing about music itself. The Tory scum lie that they are making it easier to work on a low wage, but in reality the benefits system of tick box forms doesn't seem capable of dealing with anything a little bit out of the ordinary, and so called "advisers" at the job centre seem to be there mainly to patronise and belittle people into doing work that is as tedious as theirs must be, or worse. One form even describes these paper pushing patronisers as coaches. Does this mean they are on wheels and eat diesel? Nevermind, I've let them know I intend to write a funny article about the trial by bullshit that is expected of everyone on JSA. One prat of a "coach" even had the temerity to suggest that I should change the way I dress. Their idea of helping me is encouraging me to lie about myself, deceive employers and waste my time doing things that'll drive me crazy. Considering I've just been offered money for writing about music, and did this with NO HELP or advice from them whatsoever I think they should get off my case and give me a little more time to write, not waste it in bureacratic claptrap and pointless interviews for jobs with employers who would never employ me in a million years if they had any sense. As I have yet to actually get any JSA payments I told them I was on strike and they threatened to sanction the payment. Does this mean I have to start paying them for the honour of having my time wasted with their depressing interviews? The same "coach" who disapproves of my appearance also kept repeating that he couldn't understand why I was angry or why I blamed the Tory scum for messing the system up with their stupid reforms! At least he didn't blandly threaten to involve the police like the last time. I'm sure they'd have loved a bit of extra pointless paperwork for a case the CPS would have thrown out. I told him I was going on strike with regard to further "jobseeking" until I actually got some JSA. As I walked out onto Alexandra Road with no less than four more forms to attempt to fill in I put on the radio and it was just at the start of "Ace of Spades" by Motorhead witch seemed perfect:

"MAKES NO DIFFERENCE WHAT YOU SAY!"

 

Here are the excellent Bo Ningen at Cafe Oto 2013

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g5nv7v-z3_c

 

May Records: Swans, etc

These are the cool new albums I've been listening to in the first two weeks of May, followed by the number of times I've listened to each one up to this day. I paid ten quid for New York punk rockers Big Ups CD after they blasted their way through Kraak Gallery DC hardcore style; all the rest were given to me by PR people, John Schmersal of Vertical Scratchers and Crooks On Tape (formerly of Enon and Brainiac) and Johnny Winbolt-Lewis of Douga, except Nicole Atkins' album witch I listened to on youtube. The Swans album is two hours of transcendent tripping into musical regions no one else has dared open up before. It could turn out to be the best album ever made; it is most certainly the best Swans album yet, a genuinely progressive vision of the violent mutation rock music should always strive for but rarely does. It is out on May 12th and if you are in a record shop next week with enough cash to bag it and you buy something else instead, then you ain't got a clue!

Swans - To Be Kind 5

Bob Mould - Beauty and Ruin 6

Vertical Scratchers - Daughter of Everything 3

Crooks On Tape - Fingerprint 1

OOIOO - Gamel 2

Skull Defekts with Daniel Higgs - Dances in Dreams of the Known and Unkown 2

Nicole Atkins - Slow Phaser 1

Douga - The Silent Well 2

Big Ups - Eighteen Hours of Static 2

Kreidler - ABC 1

Monkey Puzzle Trio - The Pattern Familiar

Prescott - One Did

Jon Porras - The Light Divide

OLDIES:

Bo Ningen - Line the Wall 2LP 2013

"Leaving Jet Trails" Slowfoot Records sampler 2012

Robert Pollard - Elephant Jokes 2009
Robert Pollard - Mouseman Cloud
Giant Sand - The Love Songs
The Clash - Clash On Broadway 3CD 1976-82

Black Sabbath - Vol 4 1972

Black Sabbath - Master of Reality 1971

Anson Corner Blues Explosion!

10.5 After hearing Tekla, Sphelm, Songs for Walter and dbh's solo guitar rendition of the whole of Neil Young's "After the Goldrush" at the house on Anson Corner I rocketed north to Gorilla to watch the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion give the finger to the man. I reviewed their gig for issue 2 of Que Vida. Back in Rusholme with a bottle of red wine there were four more bands playing much louder than the afternoon entertainment and the Yossarians set at around 1am was the most chaotic and wild gig I've seen in a long time. I was stood on a chair behind a table in the back corner of the room and at one point people were shoved into it with such force it would've broken both my legs had it not stopped just as it touched them! Yossarians bassist / MiSTOA PoLTSA guitarist Mark played iPod tunes until 7am and I was glad I'd found a lost megarider flapping about in Piccadilly plaza earlier that day as the rain was battling sunrise as I left.

I will add the review to this blog after Que Vida 3 is out.

Plank, Vei & Douga

8.5 I was hoping to catch hardcore punkettes Hysterics at The Castle after Plank and Vei played the Bay Horse on Thursday, but Plank went on nearly half an hour late so it was not possible. Nevermind, Plank played the best gig I've heard them play since Liam Stewart took over the drumming, and Jamie Robinson's visual projections were a welcome animation for two rather static bands; Vei all black and white film-noir disquiet and Plank overwhelming psychedelic multi-coloured shapes and lines. The penultimate Plank track, so new it wasn't recorded for the forthcoming album, demonstrated Dave Rowe's John Adams and Steve Reich influences more audibly than anything else they've written. Johnny Winbolt-Leiws gave me a CDR of the excellent new Douga album "The Silent Well" and as there will only be 99 CD copies made, you'd better snap one up fast when it's released in June.