Monday, 5 November 2018

Attrition, Riotmiloo, BeinE Gig 03 nov 18 Elektrowerkz 


BeinE are a very dark experience. Harsh synth washes conjure flickering images of serial killer static. A repeated sample "What have you done?" flashes horror in the mind's eye, backed by both the creepy projected images and Tiff's sparse haunting lyrics. "Your words a knife in my heart". This is the kind of industrial that ruins your dreams. You are running down a hallway stalked by your own memories, while your emotions wrap like rope around your legs. BeinE are the sound of you falling and trying to crawl away as the flames rise in your mind, and the bricks of your crumbling body fall to the floor. 

I am left wondering how two genuinely lovely people can make such harrowing, traumatic music.


A hard beat and some synth swells. An entirely different proposition. Background visuals documenting the suffering of women through history in line with recent recording 'Riotmiloo and Friends: La Pierre Soudée".

Perhaps it is a Catholic upbringing that makes me unwilling to dance to this and revel in something so deeply based in pain, but this IS music you can dance to, though I do want everything to be louder, maybe Atari Teenage Riot volume to really bulldoze everything but then imposing macho bullshit on this kind of misses the point. 

Harrowing and terrifying in an altogether different manner. This is a terror from outside rather than your own mind calling for your destruction.

Disclaimer: volume issue got resolved quickly.

Spoiler: I did get moving

Also, just fucking listen to it.


Attrition have been around a long time and I was late to the party. I'm disappointed it took me so long to be honest but nobody gives a fuck about that. We're not here for my wallowing. 

Pulsing bassline, gravel  male vocal, and burning incense duelling with the smoke machine. A high female vocal as contrast, all backed by a frantic beat that sounds like a goth's heart on speed. This is not what you might expect when someone says "Let's go see a goth act that's been going almost 40 years". 

This is definitely dancefloor fuel however, and you quickly recognise the correlation between experience and competence strongly realised here. 

I feel like this is the goth equivalent of an 80s rave. Which is something I missed out on when it happened the first time, so may Attrition be forever blessed for taking me back. 

Sunday, 7 October 2018

Beat:Cancer 05 oct 18 

Laurie Black

Goth cabaret. Imagine a cabaret but darker, funnier, and with better tunes. Halfway there. Performing tracks from her new show "Space Cadette", neatly dispelling any myths of goths as po-faced, this is sci-fi joy at its finest, and a great big fuck you to the lack of women in STEM. They've always been there, you just weren't paying them enough attention. This is a show you have to see. We need to help Laurie Black get to the Moon.

Her Despair

Goth rock with synths. Oh yes. This will do very nicely. A can of worms has been opened and poured into my ears. Which is much better than the horrible mental image I have just given you. Wait a minute, I'm smiling. This isn't how being a goth works. The name tricked me! 


2 piece, with some atmospheric synths before some serious beats kick in. Dance fuel for the disposessed. Sounds much later than it is, and twice as fun. A backdrop with images of Space Invaders is the perfect image for this. Show me your moves and go for the high score!


Well this has a harder edge to it, prepping us for the DJ sets to come, and you notice it on the dance floor. Dual vocals, and a definite sense of euphoria shot through the industrial beats and riffs. The future might be a dystopia but we'll enjoy the world crumbling around us while we can. I for one welcome our robot overlords. 

Monday, 10 September 2018

Chimpyfest 2018

So here we go again. Chimpyfest 2018. New venue. More expensive beer, cleaner toilets with more capacity. No car park for street cans and Buckfast. Anyway, enough whinging let's mention the bands.


Spacegrind. Drums, guitar, and two guys manipulating pedals like someone's pointing a gun at their children. A great start to Chimpy.


Sharing some members with the first band, this is some dirty 90s grindcore reminiscent of early Napalm Death. Lovely.


Brutal 2 piece, short manic blasts. Get involved. What a great name. Shame there was no cover of Easy Lover though.


Savage throat tearing 3 piece, first pit of the day. Like Narcosis if they weren't abrasive dickheads. Probably. And they have a new record out so fucking buy it.

Foetal Juice

I've seen these cunts on telly. Filthy death metal. Have it. Nasty, sludgy, and from Manchester. So naturally the Southerners here fucking love it. Where's my fucking prawn sandwich? Actually Roy Keane can go fuck himself these riffs are tasty enough


First two bands resurface. It is loud. It is fast. I think Chimpy has just imported a whole scene. Dual vocals, crunchy grind, not quite as filthy as earlier, but pretty fucking solid.

Anal Penetration

Well who doesn't love at least a little bit of Anal Penetration? For some it is the highlight of their day, for some it makes their whole week. Filthy cybergrind is the order of the day here, superfast drum machine  and all. Arsehole tight, he didn't hit a single bum note. The audience loved it, showing just how much fun Anal Penetration can be.


Missed them due to jobsworth security not letting us back into the venue. Sorry! Tony did an impression of their set though and on that basis they get 8/10.

Tony gets Tony/10


Warfuck will straight up tear your face off. Riffs like a crowbar to the jaw. Drums like a herd of elephants snorting racetrack size lines of speed. I'm not sure if my head's going to hurt tomorrow because of a hangover or because of Warfuck


Good old sludgy crust punk. The sound of a scrumpy hangover. Or at least what it would be personified as while you tell everyone to fuck off out of your way so you can throw up and then down some painkillers with your next pint of cider


Imagine a pill that flashes a dystopian sci-fi horror novel through your brain every couple of minutes. The screams of a thousand dying alien races and spaceships crashing into slowly dying stars. That is what Antigama sound like.

Vitamin X

Vitamin X are fast and angry but it seems more wholesome than all the grindcore. Probably because the sound is cleaner and I don't feel as dirty listening to it. Probably attributing this to me being tired, and it sounds way more unfair to the other bands than intended. I guess some filth just never washes off. If they'd played earlier today this would have been just the massive energy boost I needed. They finished a track with the words "you suck" just as I was typing this. For running out of energy yes I do indeed suck, but Vitamin X don't. High energy hardcore that's pissed off but doesn't leave you feeling miserable. Inevitably, as it is Chimpy, there's an inflatable alligator bouncing around the crowd.


Chimpyfest day 2 


Filling in for the mighty Groak, Dgorath peddle some pretty savage death metal. Just what your ears want for breakfast. 


Horse is the bastard. The band that never bothered to give you a reacharound and still expected you to say thank you. Your hangover is gone only to be replaced by these noisy cunts from Liverpool determined to make your head fucking hurt so much you need a drink just to recover. New recording incoming. Get it in your ears you shabby motherfucker.


Fucking fast. You thought Horsebastard were an assault on the senses, Christ. Atomçk don't fuck around. I daren't headbang in case I snap my neck right off. Severe drumkit abuse. How the fuck are these guys so fast? Linus shreds ears with his screams. Killing Joke might be music for a wardance, this is music for a nuclear fucking apocalypse. Proper sound guys offstage but onstage this is fucking terrifying.

Corrupt Moral Altar

These are a vicious bunch of cunts. Will Chimpyfest let up at all today? Hahahaha no fuck you. This isn't so much going for the jugular as repeatedly smashing you over the head with a really sharp rock. Enjoy the hangover fuckers!

Winds of Genocide

Crusty grind with a hefty groove to it. Something to get your teeth into after several pints. Almost doomy, this makes me want Guinness.

My Minds Mine

Back to the vicious grindcore. Fucking old school. No messing, heads down, punishing riffage. Can't mess with the classic formula. One to jolt you back to life.


This sounds dirty. I hope they're using protection. Sounds a little like... goregrind. A shadow of what is to come. Low guttural vocals, yes, this is definitely a little bit naughty. A welcome change of pace. Testament to the lineup of Chimpy that there's enough variety in what some (read: twats) would consider such a narrow niche of metal.


Hold up didn't we ban these cunts a while back? Proof you don't fuck with the Welsh, this is some dirty death metal at its finest. Something to give the Daily Mail rage merchants a permanent stiffy until their hearts fail from the blood loss. Oh shit I'm writing their next song.


Grindcore. In your pants. Not much more to be said.

Left early so missed ENT, Sete Star Sept, and Doom.

ENT I've seen before a few timed and they've always been fucking class. Had a chat with ENTs merch guy while waiting to buy a Doom tshirt for a mate and he was a real sound lad, so much respect.

Gutted to miss Sete Star Sept as I'd heard nothing but good things from various people, including Atomçk. Savage grindcore.

Doom. So my pal Tim is a policeman, and with prior agreement, I'd bought him a Police Bastard tshirt. I got a big sneer from the Doom chap I bought it from when I mentioned it was for a copper. I understand there are some dickheads on the force, but my pal works investigating child abuse cases. Now I'm not saying Doom are paedophiles, or even that they're pro-paedophile but sometimes you need to lay aside the snide cunt routine and grow the fuck up. Fucks sake man. Crust punks are a fucking diagrace sometimes. Go fuck off and do a fucking split with Agathocles you cunts. I found out afterwards that while taking a photo of said t shirt to message my mate asking if he wanted one, their merch guy got a bit shirty (lol) about said photo and tried to block the tshirt for the photo. Perhaps they are committed to the anti capitalist cause, but in that case why bring merch in the first place? Hypocritical bellends maybe? Christ I'm not even a cop and I'm annoyed by it. Shame really as I'd been looking forward to seeing them. Apparently they redeemed themselves with a cracking set. Just a shame the drummer's a bit of a grumpy (police) bastard. 

Day 3

Chimpyfest day 3 


Noisy as fuck 4 piece who enjoy Guinness. They have a synth and everything. This is much better than going to church. Also they're working on a full length. Get involved yeah? D beat tinged savage hardcore from people you might actually like as human beings. What are the fucking odds on that? Pretty slim, but that's your own damn fault. Lifewrecker don't give a fuck about your hangover. Just the right side of nasty to kickstart day 3. What an opener. Got the audience going too, nicely warmed up and back to life. Before it gets wrecked.


Gimpnoise. Not a genre I'm familiar with. Drum solo woop woop. Probably popular in Japan.
Catastrophic Blunt Force Intracranial Haemorrhage Fluid Leaking From Ruptured Eardrums if you must. Too many fucking x's if you'd rather not.

Hack Job

Fast. Loud. Screamy. Good old tyme shambolic hardcore. Do they really need more words? Probably not. Hack Job, hack journo. "If you like shambolic ten second songs, we're your gentlemen". Accurate. 
"This is a song about kicking sexism out of grindcore. It's called 'Porngrind Go Fuck Yourself' " Good lads.

Man Hands

This is grind to party to. Fast as fuck and twice as fun. Nice that they finally turned up and smashed out some fucking tunes. Get a fucking pint down you and get in the pit.


Hefty. Doomy as fuck. I like this. Sonic equivalent of a fat j when the security guards aren't looking. 2 piece that I wouldn't normally expect at Chimpy, but I'm glad of the change of pace to keep me going. One I need to check out on record. One you also need to check out on record.


Guitars go widdly widdly. Then back to the crust like a decent slice of toast. Where's that fuckin' cider?


Some savage old school death metal. Bit of a shock to the system as I was expecting Bastardhammer but still, they're pretty good. Bit of a Death throwback I guess but that's not a dig. Frontman has a Death tshirt, should have been a clue. Decent stuff though, well worth checking out.


You're a cunt. Don't forget it. Bastardhammer will punch you in the fucking face you fucking wanker. Prick. Fuck off.

Rash Decision

Thrash til death and then fuck off. Preferably to the bar to slam some beers before you run back to mosh.

Oi polloi

Punk as fuck. Audience singing along. We love chimpy. Scottish crust punks who were brilliant fun.


Goregrind gets a pretty bad rep but this is fucking savage. 

Also special mention to Gino, absolute beast in the pit, grinning like a fucking madman, one of the first to lift people up when anyone went down in the pit. Gino also gets a Tony/10.

So glad I took a day off work to recover. See you next year!

Thursday, 6 September 2018

T'n'E - Star Inn, Guildford 02 Sep 18

So here we go, the second night of Trial N' Error Productions at the Star Inn, Guildford.

Stefan put on a cracking night previously, and from the line up, this looked like an absolute corker. With four bands for three quid, you can't complain.

I was a little disappointed Cyberwaste wasn't able to make it down, and I was later informed by James (Slow Clinic, Chrono) that Ashlinn was ill, and I for one wish her a speedy recovery, as Cyberwaste was excellent last time, and I'd been looking forward to it.

However, let's get into it. I'd arrived a touch early and was able to see a few of the soundchecks, like a true hipster music enthusiast.

I'd made a few notes during the bands:

First on was Slow Clinic, the brainchild of "Reverb James": James Armstrong.

Bowed guitar brings a hint of majesty from the first note, which swells and threatens to suffocate, but no. This is not a gruff show of brutality, this is a wave to carry your mind, not drown it. Notes rise like islands, leaving you feel as though you are watching a film, a gentle panning shot of some unknown landscape. I'm reminded in part of Boards of Canada. I feel as though I am hearing an aural watercolour, a representation of a loved family photograph of an old holiday, smiling through the sadness at the memory I'll never quite recover. It is captivating stuff, and at times hard to believe that it is improvised.

Next up were Chrono, and James was back on stage with a full band.

Described as post rock, you could guess at any number of genre tropes, and with the ethereal start, you'd be forgiven for thinking this was going to be some lovely 4AD worship. Not so, as the wave breaks and the riffs begin to crash against your head. Stand on the pier and watch the fireworks. You can see as the colours burst in the sky that these guys enjoy what they do. OK. Time to dispense with any metaphors or similes. It is just good music, that borders on telepathic, considering the band's prior logistical difficulties, but then, you'd never realise that unless they'd told you before. This is the soundtrack to drinking a beer on the beach, watching a glorious sunset. The kind of thing you really don't want to end any time soon.

an early haunting

Guitar. Bass. Double-bass. Organ. Ok. Yes. Good. More of that lovely jangly summer guitar tone, the kind you'd hear on a Durutti Column record. This is laid back, the organ a touch understated, but not sinister. Guitar change. Some strong instrumental post punk. The Joy Division shirt should have been a clue, and I mean no disrespect when I say that. Another instrument change. Violin back to a sadder tone, but this is compelling, highly competent musicianship, and while the changes interrupt the flow a little, I'm very intrigued to see how this would pan out across the course of an album. Oh, and flute too now. Definitely a band I'll be keeping an out for, seriously talented five piece.

I found out after their set they're about 2/3 through working on an album. Keep your eyes peeled.


A somewhat off-kilter four piece this. From first impressions, this could be discordant as fuck, but we get vocals for the first time tonight and they hold our hand, guiding us through the chaos. As the dust settles, you notice this is the eye of the storm. Hush child, let the wind carry you forward. It's kind of like Clann Zú on acid. Or at least on the stereotypical descriptions of acid as portrayed in some kind of Looney Tunes waking nightmare. Some impressive noise work here, pedalboard abuse perhaps, either way, it is joyful to see people having so much fun making such a bloody racket, only saying that doesn't really do it justice, as I'm really enjoying it, not being the grumpy arsehole neighbour telling them to turn it down (Yeah! I'm talking to you developers!). Listening to this band feels like sticking your head in a washing machine for a spin cycle or two then swiping away the cobwebs with a slice of lemon that's been doused in gin, and wrapped around a fucking massive sledgehammer. 

ChimpyFest Reviews. Sort of

So Chimpyfest rolls round again.

And I've been reviewing things lately.

Thing is, Chimpyfest doesn't exactly lend itself to standing about with a notepad scribbling away.

Following a chat with Martin from the mighty Lifewrecker (playing Sunday), I decided to do a mini best of cobbled together from what I can remember from the last few years.

Famine - fast smashy grind. I got used as a toy airplane by a giant. 10/10 would mosh again

Horsebastard - the kind of band who wouldn't break eye contact if you caught them fucking your mum. Riffs that piss in your beer and shit in your cornflakes. Screams that hate your miserable fucking face. Don't annoy them. 8.5/10
Gout - Gout are a bunch of cunts who play fucking horrible goregrind. The riffs are good and they wear Hawaiian shirts. RIP Eddie. :( 8/10
Dysteria - 'so what's it like being a woman in a...' shut up you fucking prick, Jill would rip your fucking face off. While soundchecking. Savage hardcore that gives your ears a battering for asking such stupid fucking boring questions. Dickhead. 9/10

Atomçk - Good lads, very very fast, real classic savage grindcore. Imagine if Dark Souls was a grindcore band. You Have Died. 9/10

Tools of the Trade - A timely reminder that street cans are for utter utter cunts (like me) who miss half a set played tighter than a Scotsman in a racist joke. Everything hurt afterwards as I tried to catch up for lost headbanging. Twat. 10/10
Dog Eggs - Fun, fast hardcore that makes me want to jump about while pissed on Polish lager. 7/10  
Reproach - Blistering hardcore that will rip your bollocks off if you're not careful, like a haunted zipper in a b-movie horror. Turns out they're very friendly offstage, but a jagged bulldozer to the face onstage. 10/10
Agathocles - Imagine being absolute titans of a genre, so much so that people have travelled across the world, just to see you at a tiny grindcore festival in that there London. Now imagine you get completely fucking trollied before playing forget not only how to play your own songs, but seemingly how to play guitar completely and falling over into the drumkit. No wonder the Tories keep winning if our elite on the Left are feckless cunts of this order. I wasn't even there to witness it. Devastated, you absolute barons of shit. At least it was decent fodder for the kind of arsebreathing Daily Mail journos wanking on about how Antifa are horrid bullies and metal is just a load of noise. Cunts. 0/10 [The failure was documented on tape, and on graffiti in the gents toilets.]

Honourable mentions -

Looking For An Answer
Flowers of Flesh and Blood
The crust punk who splashed himself with piss when going for a slash up the side of a van, then loudly asked his mates for a line of speed after admitting pissing on himself. 

Monday, 3 September 2018

TnE Electronic Night Star Inn 10 jun 18 

So a few months ago, I went to a new night of experimental electronic music at The Star Inn, Guildford. I reviewed it, and being a doofus, forgot to post it. So in advance of my review of the second TnE night, here's the first one...


Impressive array of wires and machinery. Artist with back turned, focused solely on looped pulsing rhythms and gentle synth washes. A soundtrack for a sea of robots, a rising metal tide. One hopes that it is as gentle as the low hum emitting from the speakers. There are hints though, that it is a dark future ahead. Either way I'd like to see this artist doing film scores or game music, knowing it'd be both immersive and terrifying.


Much less kit for this one, but no less immersive. More shimmer than crashing wave this time, building like you're just coming up. Irony being I'm sober for this gig, but yeah, this sounds pretty. After the glitter intro we get what appears to be jungle that's smoked a joint of trip-hop. I want it to be louder. Suddenly we're back in rainforest territory. This is chillout done very well. The soundtrack to 4am euphoria. Here it comes, something sinister. The lurking spectre of the hangover to come. They say DMT is a 12 hour acid trip in 2 hours. This has been a good club night in 20 minutes.


Organ music from a sci-fi film it seems, but I can't place whether opening or ending credits. There's menace as the beat kicks in, so we'll go with opening credits. An unfamiliar landscape appears, and you try to stop and stare, maybe get your bearings but you need to get to safety first. A flash of white light and you're in the city, grey brick flaunting its neon lace panties. Casinos, clubs, cyberpunk street vendors. You reach for your pocket, and the machine flickers. "Insert credstick to continue". You pull out a few coins and start to remember where you really are.

Slow Clinic

Prepared guitar. String on string, like a quantum physics lesson gone wrong. The loop pedal makes it orchestral, steadily building, and it feels like you've discovered a way to make your life run in slow motion. Use of a bow on an electric guitar lets you know this is nowhere near conventional, but the waves carry you off all the same. There's a majesty to this, like you might hear from Godspeed You! Black Emperor, a comparison I've made before. Perhaps lazy of me, and certainly it doesn't give James Armstrong of Slow Clinic the credit he deserves here. Improvised soundscapes of stunning depth, you'd hardly believe this the work of one man if you weren't seeing it happen before you. 


Projector, and a noir-ish soundtrack, a night drive with William Gibson as your Sat Nav. Not what I was expecting at all from the name, but it's been mostly ambient stuff tonight. The projected visuals have something of a Lawnmower Man feel, though this is no nightmare. You have become one with the machine now. You recognise yourself in the mirror, but see that you are also irrevocably changed. Parts of you are better, faster, you only wish you were able to hide the wires.


A duo, the first this evening. his is definitely dance music, and it's not ambient. Not a bad thing, you need loud party music every now and then. They look like they are having fun, and messing with the crowd a little with a few breaks in volume. It's cheery stuff, and they also appear to be sharing a bottle of bubbly between them. It seems like the sonic equivalent of bringing space hoppers onto a bouncy castle. Great fun, but you're probably going to regret it in the morning.

Tuesday, 29 May 2018

Chrono, Mirrored Lips, Joe Booley

Monday 28th May - Suburbs at The Holroyd, Guildford


Heavy psych that likes to tease. Fairly new band, one to watch, I feel they're in training to deliver the gut punch you're expecting from them. Heard from the guitarist they don't have a band name and it was a kind of improv jam. Enjoyable stuff either way. Shame I can't give you more information really.


First gig. Post rock, ethereal floaty, then they start the fucking engine and lift you into space. A knuckleduster inside a velvet glove. Apologies for all the references to punching, on the Stella tonight rather than gin. They have some sparkly moments and are clearly having fun, even if one of their guitarists is shit at armwrestling.

Mirrored Lips

All female Russian 3-piece fresh off the back of playing Raw Power Festival. Hi. We're Loud. No bassist. Machinegun vocals. A presence not to be fucked with. Not even finished my second beer before realising I'm a twat who's reviewed the soundcheck.

Wiry postpunk guitar. This is a walk through a desolate wasteland. Perhaps your own desolate wasteland. Come Ozymandias, gaze upon your failures as that rhythm tightens round your neck. This is music to march to. To Wardance.

Joe Booley

A lone guitarist. Don't worry. This isn't your garden variety jingly-jangly prick. No house party Wonderwall cunt. No Ed Sheeran wannabe. I mean fair play to Ed taking on ticket touts but "push and pull like a magnet do"? PROPER GRAMMAR YOU WANKER!

Right. Bit of fire in the belly and some distortion. Yes. And it's not a fucking acoustic thank Christ. You're put more in mind of acts like Hum, and Frank Turner. Joe is neither of these, nor the others mentioned. You know though, that he gives a shit, and that counts for something more than just a butter advert.

He'd probably have preferred me talking about the technical aspects of his performance, whether his use of reverb was adequate, or if his build up of tension was enough, but I'm shitrockjournalist. Why on earth would I bother with any of that?

Cheers Joe!

Wednesday, 16 May 2018

We Are All Medicated

I appear on the first track of this album, providing a spoken word piece. A draft of said spoken word piece previously appeared on this blog. 

For further details on the release, please visit

Tuesday, 15 May 2018

Ode to Portnoy

It seems that so many men suffer the Cyclopean urge. Seeing and thinking with a single eye, convinced that it may be their third. Of course, one may be forgiven a certain drive, a particular emphasis, as long as it doesn't, shall we say... override all else. Amusing then, that the thrust of this particular missive is concerned with such nature without penetrating to any deeper level. Perhaps it should.

Saturday, 12 May 2018

Blackswan EP Launch at Branch Cafe, Godalming - Review

Blackswan EP Launch at Branch Cafe, Godalming

Slow Clinic

Changing Colour


As reported by shitrockjournalist

*Disclaimer - all bands got two reviews, one less serious than the other. Both are presented here.


"Fuck man, it doesn't look like a venue."

"Of course it's a venue. They have a drum kit."

"Shit man, every Starbucks has a drum kit these days."

"Ah come on man, this is better than Starbucks, I've only seen one laptop so far."

"Alright man, point taken. People here too. You sure we're really at a gig?"

"Look, they have booze too!"

"Oh shit, really? I guess it is better than Starbucks…"


Slow Clinic (1)

Just a boy and his guitar. Well, that and a pretty sweet pedal board. A moment's introduction and then a tone that begins to swallow the room. You listen close and hear clicks of pedals and picked strings, a child watching a puppet show. He's seen the wires but it doesn't matter because he's in another world now. He feels himself lifted, watching himself at play, staring, amazed at how one man can generate those sounds. Patiently he waits his turn to applaud.


Changing Colour (1)

Guitar and drum. Stiff Little Fingers fans? Unconfirmed. Bassist just showed. Ignore that cultural reference. Drummer with brushes, bassist slinging some funk. This kind of sounds like Jamiroquai if Jay Kay wasn't such a colossal prick. Are those tea towels on the drums as mufflers? How amusingly British, despite the American sugar sweet pop sensibilities. I reckon these boys would be good to have a few beers with. They seem too clean cut for a good spliff, but you know, I could be wrong…


Blackswan (1)

Defined by Nassim Nicholas Taleb as a rare and unpredictable event, much like actually being able to buy the new EP, Black  Swan, or to be accurate Blackswan. Two piece. Two young handsome chaps with guitars. No drummer. No bassist. Not tonight anyway. Ok, let's go. Full disclosure, on my 3rd G&T. Full house for the boys. Starting with a non-EP track on the launch night. Bold move. Bold voice though. Imagine Americana shot through with a little more soul. Couple of whoops and cheers before the first song is over. Culmination of over 10 years of jams and writing, with the help of Postmaster Studios, old jams and songs find new life through these acoustic shamans.


Slow Clinic (2)

Knowing that an artist cares deeply about an acoustic space and its properties is an interesting thing. As tone swells phase in and out, muttering among the audience provides unintentional percussive accompaniment. Ice placed into a tumbler, pouring of liquid gives further disjointed rhythm. It is amusing how even those being egregiously inattentive lend something to the performance. Only the untimely ring of a mobile phone, swiftly muted, seems out of place. It may be a slow clinic, but it is an interesting waiting room.


Changing Colour (2)

So Disney decide to do a teen movie set at a beach house. These guys are the prom band. They wrote the whole score. It's catchy and fun, music to smile to as you try to place musical references. A hint of Michael Jackson before he went completely insane. Just in a vocal flourish here and there, you know, but it's present. A real happy ending of a band. No. Not like that, you pervert.


Blackswan (2)

So headline act, how about this EP? You've quite a following with your sad tinged songs. Well, I shouldn't put it like that, it gives the impression you're nothing more than mopey Morrissey fanboys, and if you were, you'd have no fans. Morrissey? Nobody wants that. No. There's joy here too. Vibrant, life affirming, like rock music fucking well should be. This could have been a different review if I'd been drinking whisky, but the tunes still would have been good, you'd still be reading an advert for the new EP. Two guitars and a great voice. It might be simple, but it's done really fucking well.


Slow Clinic - for fans of: Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Jesu,  Sigur Ros, pick a good post rock band and go.


Changing Colour - for fans of: Jamiroquai, Sublime, chilling in a beer garden with a cold beverage while the summer sun beams down


Blackswan - for fans of: Clayhill, Dana Immanuel, Tracy Chapman, Joe Henry, meaningful conversations at a house party at 2am after the prick with an acoustic guitar has stopped playing Wonderwall and handed it over to someone who knows what they are doing


Like every shit rock star, this shit rock journalist had to end with a fucking advert!