It’s September 3^rd and The Croft is hosting a Wolfparty. Five bands, two rooms, ten cigarettes and eight ciders. Let’s do this. This is Turbowolf’s first headlining show of the year, the first in Bristol in recent months and they’ve made it personal; they’ve picked the support acts, chosen the venue, promised an after-party and packed the place with friends, family and fans. Metal.

Things have changed for Turbowolf in 2011, they have recorded their album, toured Europe with Korn and Dimmu Borgir (quite a feat for the then label-less quartet), signed with Hassle Records (Trash Talk, Alkaline Trio, Cancer Bats), recorded a couple of videos and bagged a new drummer and a newish bassist. Exciting times, but tonight they have a job to do and a triumphant homecoming to celebrate.

They open up with the blistering Ancient Snake and commence with an onslaught of flailing hair, limbs, sweat and noise. The audience join in dutifully – crashing into one other and singing every word. The Big Cut and Things could Be Good Again (also from their recent foreplay-before-the-album EP) demonstrate a punkier sounding Wolf than we had heard previously – somewhere between Soundgarden on glue or The Misfits on heroin – and adds a stylish dynamic to their set.

Like true pioneers of audio/visual overload, Turbowolf ensure that you have something to watch while you soak in their sounds. Vocalist Chris only stops to tamper with his keyboard from time to time and spends the rest of his time in, on or under the audience. At one point manages to surf to the rear of the room, belt out a song, dive and surf back to the stage. Another crowd surfing session takes place on a skateboard that somebody had left lying enticingly onstage. Andy (guitar), Joe (bass) and Blake (drums) play with finesse and power in equal parts and demonstrate a band that has further evolved from an energetically scruffy ball of noise, towards something more accomplished, able to hold its own alongside the big boys.

Recent single, A Rose For The Crows is the heaviest of their set and a psychadelic swirl of stoner metal that slowly concludes with an elegantly simple down-tempo outro, built from pure doom. Forthcoming single Read And Write is an already established fan favourite and is making waves with various DJ’s across the county, thanks to its energy infectious hooks. The band close with Let’s Die and say good night and ensuring that the night remains encore/cliché free and a battered audience get the opportunity to head outside and dry out.

A very busy 2011/12 now awaits as the band embark on a UK tour with Hawk Eyes and The James Cleaver Quintet (including another show at the Croft), followed by a couple of dates with the mighty Monster Magnet. This will coincide with the release of their eponymously titled debut album on the seemingly prophetical date of 11-11-11. Voodoo. Surely a contester for Bristol’s premier live band – catch them in a venue near you.

A sweltering Trinity Center plays host to a highly anticipated night of vox-less eclecticism.

Opening tonight’s proceedings are Gallops, who are “From Wales and are Welsh”, apparently. It’s a modest opening and about as much chat as we are to expect for the rest of their set.

From the outset Gallops are tight and assured. Clearly the music does the talking as they take us through through their self-titled EP and a few newer songs. Their perhaps most complete song, the infectious Miami Spider, provides the high point.

A minimal approach to stage presence and crowd interaction is more than made up for by their drummer Dave Morait, who is mental. If you locked a 12 year old Keith Moon in a room for a decade with nothing but a drum kit, ‘Led Zeppelin II’ and a Buddy Rich DVD, this man would be the result. His erratic technique adds a solid foundation and a pretty frame to each song and is deserved of a special mention.

A straddling of several genres demonstrates Gallops’ wide range of influences. While the Battles comparison is obvious and somewhat lazy, they incorporate math-rock, droning electronica, post-hardcore and a dusty-fingered record-digging quality that few bands manage to convey. As their stage time drew to a close, the audience had swollen to four times the size, marking a triumphant performance and a huddle of new fans. Mission accomplished.

Fresh off the Glastonbury press, and following the recent departure of guitarist, keyboardist, vocalist and ‘guy with the ‘fro’ Tyondai Braxton, it could be said that Battles are up against it. However, a lack of space and an air of anticipation suggest to the contrary as the band cooly take to the stage and go to work on the increasing intensity of Africastle; the opening track from their latest album. A unanimous sweat commences.

Battle’s musicianship is impeccable as they navigate us through a soundscape of off-kilter rhythms, melodies, samples and drops. Their recent shift to a four-piece has clearly heightened Ian Williams’ duties, as he juggles between guitar, two tilted keyboards on either side of him, a suspended cowbell and an array of pedals, loops and samplers. His dual guitar tapping and keyboard playing alone is a joy to watch. He also controls two screens that make up the backdrop, displaying vocal performances from the likes of Gary Numan (on My Machines), Kazu Makino (Sweetie & Shag) and Matias Aguayo (Ice Cream). Williams manipulates these between dreamy images and merging colours as the setlist develops and compliments each song with its visual accompaniment.

Former Helmet drummer John Stanier is precise and assured as his trademark solitary Zildjian cymbal hangs high at full stretch; requiring a split-second glance preceding each use. His playing commands full attention from the centre of the stage and dominantly leads the band into their sensical changes in tempo and speed. Guitarist and youngest member Dave Konopka is assured and adds parts that flirt with frantic erraticism and harmonious intricacies.

A relatively short set, totaling just shy of an hour, is followed with an encore that features the steadily-arranged Sundome. Although encores should be reserved and limited to Bon Jovi, the dramatic crescendo of the closing tune makes for a fittingly epic finale and halts their set neatly at the point between wanting more and wanting to be outside.

Though Battles’ playing sometimes lacks the soul of lesser acts, their jaw-dropping musicianship more than makes up for it. Cue a herd of sweating late-twenty-somethings with beards in check shirts leaving in the knowledge of £14 well spent and a larger percentage of absentees who should know better than to be elsewhere

Glassjaw’s recent state has turned their hardcore fans 51% rabid with anticipation and 49% creepy, so you can imagine the raucous response to an unexpectedly released a 7″ vinyl on 8th August (8/8) to coincide with a UK performance this year. A second release followed on 9th September (9/9) and a third on 10th October (10/10). These were unveiled through their official website and at low key concerts, selling out at an increasing pace each month. Every 7″  had the band’s ‘gj’ logo die-cut from the middle, meaning that they could only be played using a specially produced cardboard adaptor that had been sent to fans of the band in the months before 8/8 (which in itself had got the ball rolling on the speculation and expectation), or bought – in a sturdy-looking plastic form – again, through their online shop.

A month after each vinyl was issued, an MP3 version was put on sale on their site. In between releases, a one-take video version of a new song (not necessarily one from a vinyl release) was placed on vimeo to keep collective appetites suitably whettened.
It appeared that Glassjaw’s movements were becoming predictable, until this happened:

This poster appeared on the band’s official website in the days leading up to 11th November. It appeared that they were going to release their new 7″ single at a pizzeria in their hometown of Long Island, New York. 88 copies of the new 7″ single were present at the restaurant and were sold with a ‘Theglassjaw” pizza to the first 88 customers that knew what to ask for. What came as a bigger surprise to those attending was a message that was printed on the inside of the pizza box:

The address on the ticket is that of Glassjaw guitarist, Justin Beck’s humongo merchandising company Merchdirect. 88 fans turned up at 11.11pm and were let through to the band with their instruments. The first few through the door were handed Flip cameras and along with everyone else, had their phones and any potential recording equipment removed from them. The band then ran through a rendition of a new song, and a lucky fraction of the attendees became the directors of their – one would presume – upcoming, one-take music video.

This is perhaps the coolest thing I have seen a band do for a relatively small and exclusive group of fans that are as used to and excited by waiting as they are sick of it. The band have already announced a New Year concert on 1/1/11 which is set to be a big one (full LP/EP release perhaps?), and we have the matter of 12/12 also approaching. What other plastic treats will they serve up?

I received this from Cerebral Ballzy. The Brooklyn skate punk crew. Check them out if you haven’t already, they’re a bit like Bad Brains being played by Beavis and Butt-head. It’s good.

Anyway, I ordered their limited edition ‘You’re Idle’ vinyl ep. The sleeve is lovingly wrapped in grip tape to make sure that your other 7″ records get trashed and this is the only one you can play ever again. Bastards! This is the envelope that I received it in, no explanation needed, end of post.

Thrash!

I first saw the Bronx during my gap year in 2004. I pulled up to Amsterdam, found a hostel,  saw their name in a local gig listing and decided to attend all within around 10 minutes. Having heard their then latest single ‘False Alarm’ not long before leaving for my jaunt, I kind of knew what to expect. After arriving at the Paradiso theatre the rest of the night became a blur of drink; punk; 400 Blows; falling over; a big bassist and a big bass; crashy loud drums;  the singer in the crowd; the singer being funny and the singer being scary. All of this culminated in us nearly joining them for a post-gig night out  but choosing to see ‘Lost In Translation’ instead (big regret). Details are hazy, but since then, they have pretty much been my favourite band.

I watched them progress from there, from their first album to their third. Time brought better artwork and maturing songs, snappier t-shirts, weirder videos, bigger chords, catchier vocals and louder guitars. They are a band that improve upon and outdo themselves constantly, a rare breed. In modern punk, that’s rarer than a Sid Vicious knife party.

In 2007 the band were offered to perform one of their songs in an acoustic format. Deeming this as cliche and never being ones to stick to convention, they decided to perform one of their punk standards through the medium of Mariachi. From this, the band discovered a special knack for this traditional Mexican ditties and set upon writing an entire album under a the guise of El Bronx. Clever. Not only do they play the tunes, they look the part too, by donning traditional mariachi gear and recruiting necessary musicians for increased authenticity. Consequently, the band undertook the task of relentlessly touring the globe, often with both of their bands sharing space on the same bill. This entails dressing up, setting up, playing an entire set as El Bronx, packing up, changing, setting up again and then smashing through a headline set of hardcore/punk/rock ‘n’ roll as The Bronx. Night after night.

El Bronx released their debut album last year. Far removed from novelty, it’s an innovative and exciting record that has helped the band gain wider recognition outside of the punk/hardcore community. All the while, they maintain the snarl and spirit of independence that made them so great in the first place.

Considering the above, you can imagine my dribbling delight upon hearing that both of these bands are playing Bristol’s very own Thekla. Small enough to let the chaos reverberate off the rafters, and weird enough to feel like you have walked into something historic; the rum soaked hull of the club on a boat is the perfect setting for this messed-up hybrid. Brighton’s Ghost Of A Thousand have taken it upon themselves to play as the buffer between The headliners and their mariachi counterparts and should be worth checking out. 11 quid buys you a ticket to three unique bands, a messy and diverse night out and some bragging rights for one of those “wow my Dad didn’t used to be a gimp” moments with your kids in 20 years time. Enjoy.

There’s nothing better than a pleasant surprise. I rocked up to the Croft on the 17^th March to check hang out at a gig with a mate I haven’t seen for a while. Having reached an age where I’m musically stubborn, think I know everything and cynical of anybody younger than me playing in a band, my hopes weren’t high (for the bands, not the company).

Arriving fashionably late, I strolled past the surprisingly stocked merch tables and into the main room to Outcry Collective 1,2,3,4′ing into their first song. Initially a drummer and 95% of a crowd down (drummer was in the bog), they pounded through each number regardless, gaining movement and bodies in the crowd as they progressed. Their early Every Time I Die-esque punk/metal provided Bristol with some half-time head bouncing bops and enough southern-fried riffs to help spice up a wet Wednesday evening.

We then bowled into the front room for a cider and saw Bullwhip setting up their gear as we jostled for a space at the bar. Local artist Sepr was on the drums so we were both pretty intrigued to see what they had to offer. They smashed through a set of angular, heavy rhythm-based instrumentals with minimal vocals, which quite literally let the music do the talking. Solid, musically apt and uncool in the most complimentary sense, this lot are one to watch.

Ciders in hand, we rattled into the main room once more to see the headliners, Computers. Dressed entirely in white, the band took their positions on stage and kicked into their first song. Well, except for their frontman Alex, he took position wherever the hell he fancied – mic stand and guitar in tow – and continued to do so throughout their entire repertoire. Computers had that kind of ‘smack round the face, damn they’re good’ sort of effect that some bands just have without necessarily meaning to. It’s the kind of music that denim, dirt and quiffs were invented for. Their hardcore bits and stage presence reminded me of The Bronx, the rock n’ roll bits reminded me of New Bomb Turks and the vocalist conjured up images of what Buddy Holly be like as a nasty, snarling modern day punk. I suddenly began to strongly consider spending eight of my unallocated gold nuggets on that Phil Collins’-face-featuring t-shirt of theirs I had half ignored and half sniffed at on my way in and realised that there are still cool bands out there to discover. Every self-appointed music scholar/fool needs that from time to time.

Chatting to them after, they excitedly told me that Speedo from Rocket From the Crypt would be flying them out to the US to record and produce their newest material the following week. If my trusty words aren’t seal of approval enough, then let that be. I don’t write about gigs very often due to aforementioned cynicism, so I would rate it as one ‘so good that I decided to review it’.

Let’s go and play on bikes…

The thing I liked about this delivery (on top of the music and the customisation) – and something that the digital machine that killed analogue and physical release has failed to fully cull – is that it was like a proper parcel from a proper label. I got a package full of fliers, a free ‘Best of Lewis Recordings CD’, stickers and a poster. Wichita do this to, and I’m sure there’s a few others out there doing the same. It’s like what it used to be like to order something from a cool label; so thanks Lewis Recordings, and please keep it up. Oh and thanks for signing Edan, he rinses it.

Here’s my package (not in that way):

There are 999 other versions of these customised vinyl covers in the world. I want to see what the others look like. If anyone that owns one reads this, send me a pic and I’ll create a little thumbnail library. Here’s mine:

I caught Edan and Ricky Powell’s touring ‘cultural event’ last Sunday at Metropolis in Bristol. there are a couple of dates left on the tour, so highly recommend checking it out if you can. Details on Edan’s website.

Rolling on Floor Laughing, What The Fuck? Oh My God.

Update 09/02/2010: I have found a few pictures of the other versions of these covers. I will add to the collection as I find them, below:

1) I’m a foaming douchebag
2) So they can all be found in one place and can live as a resource for mankind for all eternity
3) I don’t have anything else to blog about
4) Blognor Regis

Stolen ones are credited, here we go:

• Ives Says: I was the head of lead generation at the pet dog accessory factory.
• Ives Says: I bred a cantelope with a labrador and got myself a Melon Collie.
• Ives Says: I went bald on a flight. Knew I shouldn’t have chosen receding airlines.
• Ives Says: I just fell on an envelope – back in a jiffy.
• Ives Says: Kiss My RSS
• Ives knows everything about non-stick frying pans and vegetable steamers since completing my Tefal course.
• Ives Says: I just dropped my laptop on my foot, it MegaHertz. (Nicked this one)
• Ives Is reading the biography of the author of Lord Of the Rings, called ‘Look Who’s Tolkien’
• Ives Says: In the room the curtains were drawn, but the rest of the furniture was real. (Stolennnn)
• Ives Says: I want to write books and fix teeth, so have decided to become an AuthorDentist.
• Ives managed to mail some greek dip home and had some great posthummus success.
• Ives Says: An electronic document was arrested today for being a PDF-file.
• Ives Says: How does Mr Miyagi relax? Wax off. (Rory told me this!)
• Ives Says: Dell Buoy – Using your laptop as a makeshift raft during a shipwrecking incident…Everything needs a name.
• Ives Says: I saw 2012 last night. I don’t know about you, but Armageddon a little bored of all of these end of the world films now.
• Ives Says: I like Apple Mac Minis, but find them a little un-PC
• Ives Says: Marks And Spencers new advert states that it wouldn’t be Christmas without M&S. They’re right too. It’d be Chrita. (Stole ittttt)
• Ives Says: I just bought a load of websites, now I’m domain man
• Ives Says: I was told how great stocking fillers are, so I put some tights on and shat myself.

Oh my god, rolling on floor laughing, laughing out loud, for your information, no problem, laughing my arse off.

Kiss my bum & Merry Christmas love from zombie me x

raaaa

Recently a craze has swept the nation of cells in my head. This craze is the pun of the cricket variety…

As mentioned in an earlier post, I am a staunch believer in the power of punning. It is the lowest and the highest form of wit, an endless process that that makes those awkward moments of silence between gags worth it. It is often an ice breaker during many an awkward moment, the messiah of gags, elegently nailed to a comedy-shaped cross.

The rules for this punning session, is for the punner – as smooth or tenuously as they wish – to insert one or more cricketer’s name or cricketing term into the title of a film. I am going to compile a list here, of the best ones as they are made. Here are my favourites and some that myself and my friends prepared earlier:

• Glove Actually
• The Passion Of Gilchrist
• Akhtar The Future
• Star Waughs – The Umpire Strikes Bat
• Star Waughs – Revenge Of The Six
• Vaughan Flew Oval The Kookaburra’s Nest
• Dhoni Darko
• Christian Bail as Batman
• Catch me If You Can
• Lords Of The Rings
• Nightwatchmen
• Fielder Of Dreams
• About A Boycott
• Spin City
• Turner & Gooch
• Waugh & Peace
• Flipper
• Getting Even With Pad
• Eyes Wide Shut
• Maiden Manhattan
• My Four Lady
• In No-Ball Family
• Gangulys Of New Yorker
• Star Trek: The Wrath Of Kahn
• Vaughan Of the Worlds
• You’ve Got Bail
• Pollock
• Willow
• Burn Collingwood Burn
• Bowling For Columbine
• Angela’s Ashes
• legspin Of the Fall
• Gone With The W.Indies
• White Men Can’t Stump
• All-Rounder The Town
• The People Vs Larry Flintoff
• Twenty20 8 Days Later
• Seam America
• The Full Monty
• No County For Old Men
• Hawk-Eyes Wide Shut
• Face Off-Stump
• Fours Weddings And A Funeral
• The Truth About Bats and Slogs
• Saving W.G Grace
• Spinderella
• Tango & Catch
• Spindler’s List
• Singh-ing In The Rain
• Logan’s Run
• King (Of Spain) & I
• Monty Python: The Life Of Brian Lara
• Stop Or My Muli Will Shoot
• Far And Owais
• Gower Rangers: The Movie
• She’s Owzat
• The Shining
• Doc Collingwood
• Brewster’s Pavillions
• Along Came Pollock
• The Silence Of The Lamb
• The Wicket Man
• Angela’s Ashes
• Dumbslog Millionaire
• Trainsponting
• Googleyfellas
• To Kill A DickieBird
• Das Both(ham)
• Crease
• Crease 2
• Trentbridge Over The River Kwai
• Homeward Boundary
• The Big LegBreakski
• Spongebob SquareCut: Battle For Bikini Botham
• Fried Green Defreitas at the Whistlestop Cafe
• Goodbye Mr Slips
• Devon Malcolm X
• Lakeside Story
• Plum & Plummer
• MCC Biscuit
• Goughice Space

Owzat!?

• Wet Meme – A very verile viral marketing agency. Motto would be something like: ‘Spunking Viral Batter All Over The Global Inbox’.
• Johnny Cache – A Flickr-esque site that allows you to store photos of condoms.
• Mask-A-Pony – A company that makes horse blinkers out of cheese.
• AuthorDentist – A dentist that writes books. Maybe about teeth, but the best ones write about whatever.

Soz