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wokachika + finka + the hundred handed the hundred handed are first on stage tonight, & though the water rats theatre is not full to the brim, we are looking at an audience of quality rather than quantity. there is no excuse for not enjoying this band, for the hundred handed are certainly not lacking in quality themselves, being very enjoyable to behold & looking rather at home on stage, despite barely being able to fit on it. benjamin resentfully exclaims that he is missing doctor who to be there & it dawns upon everyone else that they’re missing it too. but all thoughts of billie piper & christopher eccleston’s adventures are left behind while the band of many hands continues to complete another wonderful set, brandishing their style of elegant indie that the likes of british sea power would be proud to witness. next on are the mancunion finka, & i wistfully recall vocalist jimmy frith’s hair being somewhat shorter some 2 years ago when i last saw them. this time they are still strong & smooth as a band, but watching them tonight, i am sure they can do better than this! their collection of songs is superb however, indie-pop with swooping rich vocals, and guitar drums & bass all adding their own touch of identity to the toe tapping result. my ears may have been deceiving me, but we believe that one of their songs was dedicated to anyone who’d been sat on, which had been met by stifled laughter from at least two people... becky-of-being-sat-on-by-a-drunk fame & myself were mentally bullied into staying for the whole of wokachika’s set. i did not enjoy them one bit, however there were other people there who were clearly not trying to escape, nor did someone elses mental (or physical) hold restrict them from making their actions toward the door. they were staying there of their own accord, perhaps even enjoying themselves. so maybe i’m wrong, & old guys doing herbal punk is actually really good. yeh, herbal punk. that’s what i said. i think the bands should have gone on in reverse… |
21 jan 05
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19 jan 05
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17 jan 05
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14 jan 05 i was asked by ms moog to review the evening that we spent at the ica, but i’ve come across a slight problem; that is that i didn’t actually get to see redjetson because i was in a cinema watching film shorts and music videos about such things as dancing cartoon demons and evil space squids – no, really – so I’ll just pick up from later on. the main event of the evening was members of youthmovie soundtrack strategies, redjetson and the edmund fitzgerald providing their own soundtrack to a sixties controversial-at-the-time czech film called daises, about two sisters who do bad things and who, by the end of the film, get their come-uppance. except i didn’t actually understand what that was ...all i could gather is that they got chucked in a river (?) i dunno ...it was a surreal film, i don’t think we were supposed to get it entirely. confusion aside, the soundtrack provided was indeed immense. ymss started off proceedings, being the most observant and true to the film’s action of the three ‘sections’, the highlight of which being graham’s impeccable drumming during a rather drunken jazz club scene. slowly but surely, the members of redjetson took up their posts, wowing us as they usually do…but kind of forgetting that they were playing along to a film, a subtitled film being shown on the screen they were standing in front of. oh well, it made up for missing them earlier. the whole film, and maybe the whole evening, is then eclipsed by the absolutely stunning end section by the ed fitz, with a little help from youthmovie members, its pure and relentless euphoria taking the audience’s breath away. so how would you follow that? how about chucking a couple of instruments at a couple of unsuspecting (not to mention drunk) lads from hope of the states, and saying "go on, just play a little something"? well, unsurprisingly enough, that’s exactly what happens, and we get treated to guitar-and-violin renditions of for the drunks, nehemiah and the drinkers on the dry. being a hots fan, i find this pretty darn great. i have to, however, restrain my fellow bellyachers from causing havoc, as they have something of a hate campaign against sam herlihy. put that cup down...no, don’t you dare throw it... thankfully sam escapes unharmed, and our random evening reaches its final leg; ymss' own 'proper' set. except, for some strange reason, andrew’s guitar seems to have had enough already, and gives up working - well, they had already played for the best part of an hour. one stolen guitar and the capturing of an elusive guitar cable later, and we’re back on track and ...oh wait, no we’re not. obviously the excitement of playing new single ores (plug; scheduled for april release) gets to the boys, but once they start it off again, it’s a glorious two-hundred-and-ten-ish seconds. unfortunately, technical problems and an average song length of seven minutes means there’s only time for one more track; and so a rather brutal yet enthralling run-through ...spooks the horse concludes the night. and of course, after experiencing the above, we are left saddened by the fact that this ‘once in a lifetime’ event had to end at all. - cherb
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07 jan 05
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16 dec 04 delays have begun on their venture for an album to follow faded seaside glamour, with some new tricks up their sleeves, or at least, this time they've found themselves preparing to make the album with all four band members intact, namely which the inclusion of aaron, who has brought the dance to the songs of the pretty sounding group. tonights gig transports me back to times past, as once again they open with the sunshining wanderlust, making the event feel like a wonderous homecoming, though a homecoming it is not. they sound suprisingly fresh after finishing a lengthy tour seeing them carting their music over various countries, but with it comes warm contentment in the performance of a set combing their older works, (nearer than heaven & long time coming included), with the rare incorporation of dainty sink like a stone, and other new tracks lillian (appearing on the latest uk tour) & the more recently added valentine which is already a favourite among the more enthusiatic of fans due to its pulling & spiralling talent. there's even an opportunity for jazz-crooner style clicking from colin & rowly as a bearded greg sings... (ahh, the bonuses of technical gremlins). this made another beautiful set of smiling-ear-to-ear happiness, though also a sad realisation that now they're growing up and new material turns out - wonderful as it is - that classic songs such as hey girl must quietly retreat as the disco beat comes rushing in to get us going all over again. - ruth moog
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15 dec 04
trap 2 support kasabian in london once again by request. last time i saw them was at the astoria (support to kasabian) & unfortunately they didn't impress me. today, their sound was fuller in the academy, but they were still as uninspiring as the last time i saw them. onto the dead 60s, who play their set as if they were the headline. they're ska punk, and familiar for their single riot radio, which provides a typical cross-section of the band. this is good because the track is wonderful, but also bad, because there are occasional moments of "have i heard this before...?". the skinhead singer makes faces at the crowd as he parades their lyrics against the bouncy off beats. even if they are particularly fond of that one key, they're clever and convivial, & a pleasure to watch. now skank damn you!
finally come kasabian, keeping us waiting as the band enter a stage of industrial looking lamps & kasabian logo backdrop to i.d without singer tom. i was dubious to see how they would sound headlining brixton, a venue which they've played before and said themselves they sounded awful. but tonight after a ridiculous year of gigging and success, they've pulled their sound sharply together & expanded their songs so that they storm the academy with the same eminence they've acheived in the smaller of venues in the past, their genuine pleasure & excitement shining off them at the landmark sell out gig, marking a great end to the year for the band... and also guitarist sergio's 24th birthday. they present new material in the form of a brilliant new track called clockwork which drum'n'bass sounding percussion from ian, and what sounds like a reason is treason re-hash instrumental, pan am slit scan. they also use the usual set list tracks, including the elite unreleased 55 & b-side nightworkers, singles processed beats, reason is treason, lost souls forever, the forthcoming cutt off and of course, ending the set, the strengthy & convicting club foot. - ruth moog
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14 dec 04 cherubs began tonight's show at the garage, with their front man who reminds me of a lion cub. most strange... he stares & the crowd tenses up, every action under scrutiny from the wild cat, who is either singing or staring whilst the rest of the band continue the music. their set appeared to me as a bizarre eclectic combination of random music, including the likes of interpol, yeah yeah yeahs, the prodigy, morrissey, and that bit of charlie & the chocolate factory on the chocolate river; almost a different style for every song. it's very possible that i was the only person present hearing these things, but i did feel that by the end of the set, i still didn't know what cherubs sound like. this is quite the opposite with the departure, who leave no room for doubt. there's something very playful about this band, that is easily missed by their absolute definitude. their influences are honest-to-goodness & their history is a fascinating (& short) read, due to being just about one year old, but they've settled into their footwear & relaxed into their line up enabling them to perfect their tight as wire sound & flaunt it as models of precision. they perform a set littered with songs well known as b-sides by a number of the audience, having released only two singles so far, all mapped out, & be my enemy, both of which are played tonight, along with next single lump in my throat, yet another catchy & severe excuse for a dance & promenade. their material is taunting having completed the album, but this will not be available for a while to come. we wait patiently, & in the mean time will have to make do with any live shows they throw our way. - ruth moog
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10 dec 04 ahhh, the barfly. here we go again. another thrust of bands in the trusty thrusty venue, the last of this years carling live sessions week, and a change from the bill sees the research stepping in for amplifier. they are a quirky & cute three piece, who bring their own fairy lights & a bunch of poppy songs not dissimilar in sound to the comical yet genius works of kid carpet, & lyrically share a likeness to weezer (the dj obviously agreed as he followed them with the blue album). unless you're an ass, there's not really anything not to like about the research, they're clearly somewhat insane - which is nice - & gives for a good performance with many a folly & anecdote of times past, & even a special song about getting a non-contagious skin disease for christmas. yay! having said that, i imagine that the recommended dosage varies rapidly from person to person. you have been warned! it's a shame that there aren't more people here for the beat up, because despite their slightly timid look (how do they manage that?!) they have a habit of driving out rock songs as raw as a self harming fish. there is a definite lift in the energy none the less, when recently released single messed up is played, bringing wistful smiles to faces, & toe tapping intrigue. another set highlight is the pushing & pounding what you say with it's rumbling break down section of drummy goodness. one of my favourite elements of the beat up is the bass lines, which thud gallantly about throughout, except when bassist dino takes a dive for his escaping plectrum trailed by a flash of hair. rock and roll. perhaps the only bad thing about the beat up is that there's so much distortion you don't realise how loud they are. *raises voice*. things get a bit more squashed when it's time for the kaiser chiefs to begin, and no wonder. out steps front man ricky, as he mournfully proclaims that drummer andy is unwell, and the barfly collectively holds its breath. "they can't not play... that would be... *gulp* awful"... "but he's gonna do the show anyway!" a cheer of "YAY!!!!" begins na na na na & scurries of excited movement begin. but, it's not until i predict a riot that the crowd really liven up. but when they get going, they really do, & the manic crowd maintains its crazy state for the rest of the set, directed by andy due to his illness (from both ends, according to ricky), & it is brilliance, from the strutting & playing & cowbell hitting to the elbows & knees & EVERY SINGLE SONG! yes, i like the kaiser chiefs. but they do make time pass awfully quickly. - ruth moog
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08 dec 04
the last time i saw thirteen senses, drummer brendon i believe was not in fully working order & had to sit it out, leaving them to play a sort of stripped down show. now if you already know what thirteen senses are like (and you should by now, since their release of thru the glass the first time round back in march 2004 which they followed up with a couple of hit singles), you'd wonder how they can get any more lo-fi?! well they did, & it was gorgeous, & left me wanting more.
first were loner. loner is geoff smith, who when live has an entourage of bassist, dj, & two acoustic guitars, while he sings his words & plays piano. he combines a delicacy & a starkness in a milieu of grunge, jazz & electronica to create something very intense & fascinating, & not least, really quite beautiful. his words are simple yet poetic, sincere & involving, & when arranged with the music they left this bellyacher spellbound. morning runner followed loner. they seemed to have a country influence to them, whilst sounding something like what i imagine you'd get if you crossed the veils with crowded house. i'd been very curious to hear them after seeing their name tossed around as one of the great bands out at the moment, and though that's a fair assesment as they are actually really great musically... i found them pretty uninspiring, though they had their moments. often the only way i could tell if their songs had actually ended or not was that the singer quaintly incorporated "thanks" into the end of each of their songs. so at least no embarrassing clapping-in-the-middle-of-song mistakes.
finally, thirteen senses. having seen them before whilst they were incomplete & being so impressed, i was actually pretty disappointed with the beginning of their set. somehow it seemed as if all the energy they should have had with the full band there disappeared, & the first handful of songs i am sad to say, i found quite boring. but then they reach songs in the set like lead us & into the fire, & pull out something new where they suddenly become so interesting to me that i can almost see them glowing. they enjoyed the set, & played it well, & the majority of the barfly were totally captivated throughout, which isn't suprising as their ethereal & ambient sound & melodies are appealing to everyone... but so harmless that if you're after excitement the only you'll find is banging your head against the wall. i thoroughly enjoyed the evening, all 3 acts were excellent, but the last word of the evening from me is "loner". - ruth moog
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01 dec 04
S*M*A*S*H were present to support the subways tonight... & they did. i was there to pay attention... & i didn't. trying to prop myself up on my company despite already sitting down is what occupied the cognitive sections of my brain while S*M*A*S*H were playing, although there was a brief lapse of concentration on this to play a fascinating game of shadow puppets. what i did notice of them was the odd offering of a curious lyric, along with some guitar or something...
now billy of the subways seemed to have enjoyed them i gather, as he appeared upon the stage modelling their merchandise. - ruth moog
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29 nov 04 seeing scarlet are already on when we arrive, and they sound good so we mooove closer. they play that kind of angular nearly 80s sharp-as-a-fox guitar pop rock that's so popular at the moment, which is kind of unfortunate, because they're not really like franz ferdinand, & they don't have a bassist made of pastry. named bob. their front man does have something of patrick kielty about him though, but in a far less annoying way, you'll be pleased to know. i liked their songs, they had some nifty drum beats which always makes me happy (so does a rock'n'roll perm, mister bassist) & i will not discount seeing them again, & bottom wiggling the night away...
3hostwomexicansandatinofspanners are next up. they have a stupid name. we will call them 3hos, and match their surreality, by claiming the following: 3hos are like bloc party & death from above 1979, performed by eratically dancing fish fingers with limbs & googly eyes, served with peas & chips to a boy named jonathan mclusky who lives in streatham. and his mother is called linda.
now we get moving units, & this is the third time we get to have a bit of a dance tonight. we have drums, we have bass, we have vocals, and we also have guitar, not always at the same time, not always in the same order, and we start off with a bit of synthyness too. this stuff is good, guitar distortion dance music with a bit of kerbang. the energy is constant & relentless as is johan's bass playing which comes across a lot heavier than the dangerously misleading placid look on his face. they're loud & they sound good. it makes you dance & dammit i love it a bit! - ruth moog & cherb |
26 nov 04
the home wreckers club are on stage & here come the drums: the moment luke starts beating out what went wrong? bellyache quietly suspects that this will actually be the home wreckers club's best gig to date ...the sound is superb and the set list brilliant as ever (although -ironically- drum is absent), but things go a bit awry when luke's drumstick goes flying. which is quite funny tell the truth... until things get worse & the kick drum stops - is that alright? answer: no! & luke vanishes. - ruth moog
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20 nov 04 quietly & calmly opening for interpol this chilly november evening, are the contrastingly warm & delicious the silent league. they softly play away as a sold out forum fills with people, being too delicate for some & just right for others. an element of complete joy is brought to their performance by their resident multi-instrumentalist as he switches instruments every now and then without warning ...you never know what he's going to pick up next. the silent league are dear, they even had me la-ing along, despite not knowing their songs in the slightest. then along come bloc party to kick a bit of life into everyone. it's hard to not enjoy their set from the front, while they make dense groups of people jump for joy. matthew's quick paced drums raising the heart beat of anyone in near close proximity, the sour & angular guitar noise coming from russell & kelle making feet stamp & bodies cower, the rhythmic accents from bassist gordon driving it all together... & then a nice bit of shouting thanks to kelle. my only gripe with their joyous set (happily including she's hearing voices towards the begining, & choppy aptly-named helicopter at the other end) was that the overall sound seemed to merge into a big lump instead of the polyphonic bold intricacies it could have had ... where was the feeling of definition? the seperation of instruments that takes away breath?
well, the only conceivable answer is that interpol stole it. they arrive, back lit & standing proud (or sitting if you're a drummer) looking great, sounding even better. - ruth moog |
10 nov 04 two superb bands are playing ulu tonight, & they have collected a more than adequate crowd to witness the occasion. redjetson & youthmovie soundtrack strategies bring their pleading & yearning-to-be-heard sirens to the union, and make people feel quite lovely inside.
redjetson open their set with the sumptious "divorce", a lush arrangement of scaping sound punctuated with tinkles of xylophone with the abilty to make hairs at the back of your neck stand on end with a bizarre sympathetic glee. their set continues at the same high standard as the opener: each song wide, open & magnificent, checked back to reality by the smooth tones of vocalist, clive. so what could be better than the pairing playing consecutively? them playing together?! the answer reveals itself as members of redjetson begin to clamber on stage with ymss & take up instruments (ymss' al presenting a lesson of "how to play keys in less than a minute") and now six guitars, bass, keys and two drumkits persist to destroy first the hearing of many, and second, any doubt that this performance was remarkably awesome. - ruth moog
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04 nov 04 it's a thursday evening & four bands will soon be taking on the stage at mayfair's infinity. we've been eating sweets outside the venue, and are very excited by the prospect of going inside, & reintroducing the running man as the cool dance of the moment. well, i tried. (i failed. but it was fun...)
first on are the home wreckers club, who have charmed us & charmed us on many an ocassion, so we try to follow them where ever they go. once again, charm us they do, with their stompy-dancey-clappy-cool tunes, not too dissimilar to the strokes with a younger snappy approach, and not a denim waistcoat in sight. (thankfully). we jig & splutter at the front, accompanied by the sounds of the brilliant drum (say it... DRUM!) & bottom-wiggler what went wrong. next up are the tantrums, who are well dressed in red & black, but for the grey suit on guitar. doh! they cover madonnas' like a virgin, & the bangles' walk like an egyptian which are great, ...but they are nowhere near as exciting as the lady singers red shoes & rockabilly cherry earrings. which were ace!
bringing the standard back up where we like it, come riff random, scruffy, arty and australian. random guitarist sporting a charming spice girls t-shirt. they provide visual entertainment in the form of video projected against a bedsheet backdrop, & the least enthusiastic "tambourinist" ever, who refuses sweets from strangers, & worries us that he may fall over at any moment. obviously, we loved him from the word go. the buddy hollies also played, but we stopped paying attention. although we did discuss the likelyhood that they were bullied at school, which is why they started a band. alcohol, sugar... urm. - ruth moog
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03 nov 04 london's monarch hosts another "ones to watch night", picking the freshest most loveliest daisies it can, to save you the bother of hunting for them yourself. perhaps describing the black velvets as daisies is more than a little misleading, but for the quirky & brilliant kid carpet, it seems rather more appropriate. a bit of a strange choice to support the velvets, kid carpet's crazy pop segments of madness prove to be more than a little confusing for a few observers towards the back of the venue who although claim they "cant stand the noises, arrrrh! the noises!", hang around for the whole set instead of running out the door & down the stairs out of ear shot, as you'd expect. however, the majority of the small crowd wide eyed & open mouthed, stare in astonishment as kid carpet bounds about on stage, multitasking on a variety of toy instruments & keyboards. he really is quite super! he treats us to his classic cover version of van halen's jump, constructed with the aid of an old casio (those dodgy tunes you never thought you'd hear again after smashing the bloody thing up ...), and a rendition of nelson street space invaders, zany & wonderful, & opportunity to shout a bit. at the other end of the musical spectrum, are headliners the black velvets, with a name so suggestive of classic arrogant rock'n'roll (although google seems to think four japanese blokes who look like a big-band beatles tribute is more appropriate), their offering is not disappointing. before they even start, you can feel their conviction, as they arrive on stage and crank up the guitars. trawling out electric riffs & ridiculous vocal lines that leave no room for argument, particularly in forthcoming single get on your life (out on nov 29), as it blazes unto your ear drums with swagger indeed, not making total sense... but ur... who gives a fuck?! they're the soundtrack to strutting down smutty streets in skinny leather jackets & studded belts, propping up against brick walls one leg raised wearing shades, & glaring at passers by snarling like an apathetic youth. it's nothing new. but it's bloody marvellous. - ruth moog |
30 oct 04 when he arrived at bristol university's anson rooms half an hour late on october 30th, your bellyache correspondant was suffering from an unfortunate case of... well... bellyache. a combination of this, what seemed like an interminable cold and downright laziness brings him here to you today with a review five and a half weeks late and a sicknote from his mum, but at least having done his homework. so here it is. male, first band on, were unfortunately missed, while this reviewer walked up a seemingly interminable hill toward the venue - although they certainly sound at least interesting enough by virtue of various of their component parts' membership of other bands to deserve a proper review, so they certainly must deserve this mention. that's male, mention fans. fortunately the hill did finish before we missed any more acts. sj esau is a multi-instrumentalist and vocalist who regularly appears, as here, with fellow multi-instrumentalist and vocalist max milton. they put on a rather lovely show involving live sampling, extreme instrument distortion and apparent mild panic about exactly where a particular sound is coming from at regular intervals. it's a show that manages to be at once charming and challenging, and despite the slightly queasy aspect of their sound doing nothing at all for his nausea, your reviewer is smiling broadly. live sample-looping is to be applauded wherever possible, too, so that's three big stars for sj esau on the impromptu bellyache "big stars" system. talking of big stars, jemma roper should be one. she was the lead singer of sammo hung the day before halloween, cavorting beautifully around in the middle of three blokes and an intricate ordered chaos of a noise and looking into your reviewer's eyes in a way that makes him forget altogether about that stomach pain he mentioned before. their lyrics were delightfully barmy, they were punk and clever and extraordinarily good looking as a group - there aren't many bands that can make you jump up and down at 3 in the afternoon when you felt like crap when you came in. there is now one less of them as sammo hung sadly split up several hours ago. [er... at the time of writing]. jemma says she's looking for people to work with though so we'll keep you up to date with that. enough with the third person. i'd seen valley forge before but i'd forgotten about it. watching them, it's not hard to see why. frankly when you watch them it can be difficult to avoid checking the time every few minutes. i actually started to wonder if we should all lie down, so sleep-inducing did their performance seem to be, when the girl in front of me quietly fainted and was lead away. then i went and sat down and closed my eyes, at which point it became clear that that word - watching - is key here. with your eyes closed, valley forge miraculously transform into a stadium band with a Slash-sized guitar, who far from inducing prostrate audiences through sleep, ought to do it through sheer musical power - harmoniously pounding their audience into horizontal submission. open your eyes again and it all seems to leach away. an extremely strange experience. bellyache recommends you go and listen to valley forge, but do it with your eyes closed and imagine you're sprawled in front of a huge outdoor stage. if you do this, write and let us know if it works for you. the mighty stars were the first band on the bigger stage across the corridor. they are very bouncy and enthusiastic and chummy but it might do them great favours if they were to write a second song at some stage. i'd like to write good things about them because they seemed to want people to like them and were selling their singles for a cheap-as-chips pound each at the back of the hall afterwards, but the fact i couldn't bring myself to buy one even at that price means i'd be being dishonest if i did, which wouldn't be fair to anyone. still, if you like a very poppy kind of rock and are quite happy bouncing along to the same thing ten times in a row, they might be just what you're looking for... and i am returning to this review after a fortnight-long sojourn and can no longer remember what was meant to come after that "and". still, i'm sure it was good and meant you should all go and see the mighty stars at some point. another band you should all go and see is war against sleep. they seem very dour but in fact keep saying how happy they are. the more they perform the more dour you think they are and yet the more they talk the happier they say they feel. by the time they finish it's apparent it's the happiest gig they've ever played! what must they be like when they're miserable? and their songs are adroit tales of... dolphins and drudge. everybody feels wry and calm. then geisha come on. what's gone unmentioned thus far in the review is the "revolution" theme. the name of the mini-festival as a whole is october revolution, right? the october revolution was the name given to the second part of the uprising in russia in 1917 which ushered in communism and ultimately the regime of stalin from which we hear tales of crowds of people applauding til their hands bled at the moustachio'd pig-twat's speeches through fear of going "missing" if they were the first to stop clapping. the stalinist regime placed great value on its industry, and particularly its ability to make things out of metal. "noise terrorists" geisha are on record as saying they are "not metal". but to the casual observer without a phd in exceptionally hard rock, they can seem just a tiny little bit extremely fucking metal. it is terrifying, especially when they start to seem very very upset and then run into middle of the audience. everyone applauds til their ears bleed, through fear of being kicked to death if they're the first to stop clapping. termites. what's with that. i don't know. they go "tick tick tick tick boooooooo" which is quite exciting. they're best when their keyboardist opens his mouth. but most of the time, he doesn't. i dunno, they seem like they might just catch on, but it didn't all hang together for me. blame it on the bellyache. i'll go and see them again in a better state of health and report back if they're not already world famous by then. stu out of ivory springer has this story about how he might once nearly have been pj harvey's bass player. more on why the rest of the world should be glad this didn't happen in a moment. in the meantime, it's okay anyway, as big joan are a lot like what pj harvey's band would be if stu out of ivory springer had indeed become their bass player. think about that for a moment. it's quite sexy. big joan are absolutely one hundred percent wonderful live. due to them having got played on john peel and stuff like that you might think you know what they sound like. you might even think you like them. you don't. they have to be actually playing in the same room as your body is to understand it. hey! sometimes it's easy to feel frust rated that ivory springer aren't playing in a diff erent town in the country, or even the world, every night, just so ev eryone can see them and be converted. it's something that's easy to feel, but wrong. a group this good shouldn't really need to budge an inch. most people reading bellyache don't live in bristol. you are probably one of them. it's your responsibility to go there and seek them out and be fo iled by their crafty stops and st arts, and washed to shore by the surprising sensitivity that underpins the cleverness and brilliance and loudness and beauty. they shouldn't need to come and play near you because you should all be flocking - flocking - to them. don't even pack your bags. don't even try and finish reading this review. just get up and start walking to bristol. walk, don't drive, it's a pilgrimage. if you're not prepared to do that yet go to their website and download some tracks. then do it. barefoot. although most of the other bands on the bill are secretly trying to make the floor vibrate by a variety of means (sj esau by happening on its natural resonance, geisha by stamping on it really hard), chikinki are the only one to achieve it. this is why they are so high up on the bill. they make the floor vibrate. do that and you're automatically brilliant even if you're rubbish. thankfully, chikinki are not rubbish, largely because they also have a wilfully insane keyboard sound. wilfully insane keyboard scores you two points and vibrating floor gets you seven: score nine out of ten already, and there's other instruments, and songs and everything to go with it, too! remember how i was feeling ill at the start, and that screwed up my reviews of male, sj esau and termites? i couldn't even stay for more than a few minutes of do me bad things. they had everything: terrible makeup and at least two fully realised genres in a big live mashup of a sound... they're what happens if a punk and a soul band get double-booked and decide they're not taking any shit and they're both going to play on stage at the time they were booked for anyway, so they all have to be on there at once and they just have to make it work - except that they actually do. but that's the sort of thing they probably have written about them if the reviewer walks out after a few minutes and sits outside imagining the rest of their set instead. october revolution was a great thing. let's hope there's an october next year too, and we can have another one. - wes white |
