Following a period spent spawning, recording, dispersing around the country, essaying the odd solo gig or micro-festival appearance, and carrying out whatever grim and murky business keeps them afloat in between shows and records, the various members of The Scaramanga Six have reconvened for a couple of autumn dates in southern England.
Still stubbornly insisting on being a quartet (one which won’t refund a third of your ticket price, so don’t ask) and still possessed of the most ferocious fraternal-twin-brother glower since the heyday of the Kray brothers, the Six continue to mine a rich and rewarding seam of murky kitchen-sink rock drama: like a small belligerent family of pub singers who’ve rushed the stage, mugged the house band and grabbed the mike in order to settle a few scores and tell a few hard tales in public. With Tony Bennett, The Cramps, The Stranglers, Cardiacs and Pixies amongst their crowd of musical influences (the sartorial ones include Moss Bros funeral directors, glam rock queens, small town wide boys and absinthe dandies), they’re still toting around last year’s album ‘The Terrifying Dream’, a collection of songs based on skull-rattling nightmares (some of which may not have anything to do with being asleep).
I’ve always liked the Six, right for the time I first encountered them and got the opportunity to dub them one of the country’s “most timely” rock bands – expressing inflated smalltown-British bile and huff with better tunes than anyone else. Fourteen years later, you’d have thought that they’d have lost that particular title; and it’s true that their ebullient theatricality has allowed them to sidestep strict reality any time they like. (As far as being state-of-the-nation signifiers goes, they were always more ‘League of Gentlemen’ than ‘This is England’.) But as long as there’s a supply of twisted romantics with alarming habits, touchy self-deluders going off the rails, and sinister broody men as likely to harm themselves as much as others, the Scaramanga Six will have material to juggle with and ram home; and whenever it runs short, they’ll fill the gaps with bullish tales of self-reliance in adversity (who says their Yorkshire base hasn’t rubbed off on them?) or one of bass-player Steve’s gonzo rockabilly bawl-alongs. God knows what they’re making of the poisonous post-Brexit seethe. It’ll probably provide them with enough inspiration for a double album.
The Barn @ The Railway Inn, 3 St. Pauls Hill, Winchester
SO22 5AE, England, Saturday 5th November 2016, 8.00pm(with A Formal Horse + The Bitch) – information here and here
Pure Rawk @ The Black Heart, 2-3 Greenland Place, Camden Town, London, NW1 0AP, England, Saturday 12th November 2016, 7.00pm(with The Fiascos + Zen Motel) – information here and here
The two shows this month bounce off different aspects and intimations of the Six. At Winchester the emphasis seems to be on art rock. The main support coming from sparkly Southampton band A Formal Horse, whose continually flexing music tosses math and prog ideas around under Hayley McDonnell’s crystal clear folk voice, a bounding conceptual glitterball. I couldn’t find out anything about the other support band, The Bitch, but with a name like that it’s unlikely that they’ll be playing detailed chamber-folk or be led by a woman with a concert harp (although, on second thoughts, it would be wonderful if they were…)
In contrast, the London show and supports – courtesy of promoter Pure Rawwk – are absolute Sunset Strippery. The Fiascos describe themselves, variously as “filthy punk rock’n’roll from The Cronx, south London”, “Motörhead in a sweet shop” and “Social Distortion playing to get out of jail. They feature former members of Spizzenergi and the Brijitte West band, plus ubiquitous go-to-drummer Robin Guy (the onetime Rachel Stamp/Sack Tricker who’s filled in for everyone from Sham 69 to Rancid, Faith No More and The Bay City Rollers). Gleefully trashy and explosive Essex hard-rockers Zen Motel (pals with the Wildhearts) open the show with a rare acoustic set.
In both cases, the Six are likely to be glowering at the top of the bill and bringing the weight; like elder brothers, or dangerous uncles.
At the start of October, the Daylight Music autumn season continues with a splash of country, a clash of cymbal, and just a dash of kohl…
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Arctic Circle presents:
Daylight Music 234: Independent Country + She Makes War + Zoot Lynam Union Chapel, 19b Compton Terrace, Islington, London, N1 2UN, England
Saturday 1st October 2016, 12.00pm – free event (suggested donation: £5.00) – information
Blurbs by Daylight Music, with interjections by me…
“Independent Country are a six-piece band who play country versions of classic indie hits from the ‘80s, ‘90s and 2000s. Hear your favourite shoegazing tunes reimagined with pedal steel, lush three-part harmonies and fiddle.” Sounds as if someone’s taking the Mojave 3 idea and yanking it to the logical ludicrous extreme. Their debut album’s called ‘TrailerParkLife’… Well, at least it’s not another sodding rockgrass band; and Independent Country’s version of an old Jesus and Mary Chain tune (originally from the latter’s oft-slated, synth-pop-slanted ‘Automatic’), pulls off the neat trick of sounding as if it’s the original, rather than the cover. Either they’ve genuinely discovered Jim Reid’s inner roadhouse man, or they’re just really good at putting new blue-denim flesh on pallid British songbones.
“She Makes War is the gloom-pop solo project of multi-instrumentalist, visual artist and all-round polymath Laura Kidd…” whom ‘Misfit City’s covered before, back at the start of August when she did a runaround British tour with Carina Round. Back then I made a few appreciative noises about Laura’s one-woman cottage-industry explorations: dark, brooding song topics sheathed in driven, melodic alt-(but-not-too-alt).rock, and self-directed videos which make the most of her Goth-next-door/folkie looks and still presence. Here’s one of the latter – a semi-animated video for her song Paper Thin, shot in New York and Boston with a comradely guest appearance from Belly’s Tanya Donnelly.
“Zoot Lynam doesn’t just march to the beat of a different drum; he plays a different drum altogether: Zoot’s instrument of choice is the handpan (or “hang”), which is essentially a sci-fi spaceship of a percussion instrument. This is the first time a handpan’s been played at Daylight Music, so come and see it in action!” Web information on Zoot is a little thin on the ground – frankly, there’s not much more to that homepage than a bold stare and a waxed moustache – but it seems that he started to make his name back in the 1990s as an actor via work in various British theatres and voiceover performances in cartoons (I must have heard him thousands of times while my son watched ‘The Willows in Winter’).
I’m guessing that his move into music ties in with his theatre work, since I’ve tracked down odds and ends about live scoring and workshops, and because he comes to his gigs with a reputation as a raconteur. All of the evidence suggests that he’s one of those perpetually youthful, puckish characters existing on the dividing line between theatre and other arts: a stage polymath with a little bit of the mystic or magician to him. It’s a little early in the season, but here he is with something Christmassy on the handpans (to be honest, it’s all that I could find…)
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Only a few posts ago, I was writing about Jane Siberry and was musing on other, next-generation musicians who seem to be following the trail Jane beat for a female art pop perspective back in the 1980s (some of whom, apparently guided by a mutual sense of community and affinity, are playing support slots on her ongoing British tour). It seems that I missed another one out.
Tickets are still available for the debut London shows for Flock Of Dimes (the solo project from Wye Oak frontwoman and guitarist Jenn Wasner) in early October. She’ll be playing a lunchtime instore show at Rough Trade East, followed by a full evening show up the road at the Hackney in Victoria. Flock Of Dimes has been developing for the last four years alongside Jenn’s decade-long body of work with Wye Oak (and her occasional ventures into dance pop as half of Dungeonesse. It’s taken until now, however, for Jenn to release a full Dimes album (something which perhaps coincides with her departure last year from her longtime Baltimore home to resettle in Durham, North Carolina). That album, ‘If You See Me, Say Yes’, was released yesterday on Partisan Records, and has been trailed in recent months by a pair of singles, Semaphore and Everything Is Happening Today.
Jenn has described her vision for the former single as the “struggle to communicate with each other, over distances literal and figurative, great and small,” and worked with film directors Michael Patrick O’Leary and Ashley North Compton to create a striking animated video for the song. According to Ashley and Patrick, all involved “wanted to present the tension of reaching out and not being able to touch. Fleeting communication with an outside world, felt but not seen, and Jenn’s interaction with her own double, create a hallucinatory sense of limbo. It creates a solitary confinement, wherein no matter how partnered or joined we find ourselves, those selves, our own best and worst companions, are all we have.”
Fantasies of isolation aside, the current form of Flock Of Dimes sounds liberating and upbeat, with less of the noisy indie mumble of Wye Oak. The project brings her pop melancholy into focus. Wye Oak might have become a poppier proposition in the last few years – 2011’s Spiral single definitely had a touch of the funk – but even Spiral left Jenn echoing in the distance like a mermaid dream, while the same year’s Civilian had more of an indie mumble. In contrast (and maybe on account of Jenn’s earlier dry runs at R&B with Dungeonesse), Semaphore is percolating electronic commercial art-pop in a 1986 Jane Siberry/Peter Gabriel vein, with a dash of country and bursts of beefy funk-roll bassline: qualities shared by Everything Is Happening Today, even if the latter has a more contemporary-sounding, speaker-busting alt.rock distortion halo wrapped around the chorus.
As you’ll gather from the names I’m dropping here, Dimes also has 1980s art pop written all over it – the stadium-scale reverb in which the guitars float and jostle like belfry runaways; the slick electronic technology which sounds as if it’s on the verge of cracking and hatching into a giant ungainly chick; and most of all the sense of an empowered, expressive perspective using all of this sonic trickery to blow open the windows and release the songs. I hate to sound as if I’m trying to ring a band’s death-knell (and I suspect that Jenn’s personal loyalties inform, inspire and justify her musical work as much as anything else) but on record, at least, Flock Of Dimes suggests ways forward for Jenn which Wye Oak simply doesn’t.
Rough Trade East, Old Truman Brewery, 91 Brick Lane, Spitalfields, London, E1 6QL, England, Tuesday 4th October 2016, 12:45pm – information
The Victoria, 451 Queensbridge Road, Hackney, London, E8 3AS, England, Tuesday 4th October 2016, 7.30pm – information
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Simon Reynolds: ‘Shock And Awe’
Finally, legendary music writer Simon Reynolds – the man who defined post-rock and re-canonised post-punk, and has striven to contextualise and illuminate every ingredient in contemporary pop (from the most challenging Afro-American sub-bass growl’n’gurgle to the flossiest bit of floating white vanity-froth) has most recently been focussing on glam rock.
“In ‘Shock And Awe…’, Simon Reynolds explores this most decadent of genres on both sides of the Atlantic. Marc Bolan, David Bowie, Roxy Music, Alice Cooper, The Sweet, Gary Glitter, New York Dolls, Sparks, Slade, Suzi Quatro, Cockney Rebel, Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, Mott The Hoople — all are represented here. Reynolds charts the retro-future sounds, outrageous styles and gender-fluid sexual politics that came to define the first half of the seventies and brings it right up to date with a final chapter on glam in hip hop, Lady Gaga, and the aftershocks of David Bowie’s death.”
Faber Social @ The Forge, 3-7 Delancey Street, Camden Town, London, NW1 7NL, England, Wednesday 5th October 2016, 7.00 pm – information here and here
Faber Social @ Home, 2 Tony Wilson Place, First Street, Manchester, M15 4FN, England, Thursday 6th October 2016, 7.00pm – information
All events will also feature a glam rock film screening: there’s no information on what’s playing at Sheffield, but for Manchester it’ll be Ringo Starr’s 1972 T-Rex rockumentary ‘Born To Boogie’ and for London it’ll be a “special curated series” of glam rock videos.
Again, there’s no mention of a sparring partner at Sheffield: but in Manchester Simon will be talking with a fellow ‘Melody Maker’ polymath (journalist, curator, pop historian, film director and St Etienne member Bob Stanley) and in London with ‘Guardian’ pop music critic Alexis Petridis from ‘The Guardian’. Simon Price (a Reynolds friend and contemporary who knows more than a little about the glamour chase and how to spin a polemic on it) will be joining in at London with a guest DJ set.
Quick snapshots of three more shows for the week – a spiky south London rock gig, a warm/eclectic Daylight event, and an Americana/art-busk evening at MAP…
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New Cross Inn presents:
Horsefight + Godzilla Black + HVMAN New Cross Inn, 323 New Cross Road, New Cross, London, SE14 6AS, England
Thursday 23rd June 2016, 7.00pm – information
Tight as fuck, gonzoid and with Berlin, Brisbane and London in their veins, Horsefight let their glam-prog/psychobilly/New Wave songs pogo about on giant spidery legs. They sound like a superimposition of The Fall, King Crimson and The Cramps, call themselves “obnoxious bounce music” and deliver songs on the verge of seizure, twitching over the Fall from Eden and going into near-hysterics about Derren Brown. A band up for hurling themselves into the heat of any given moment, they’ll eyeball it for a second and wet their lips before assembling a rapid strategy. They exist somewhere between spontaneity, rapid brainwork and the magnesium flare which upsets it all.
Still establishing themselves as one of the capital’s sharpest and wittiest propositions, Godzilla Black bring their snappy blare to New Cross, sounding like a horns-and-swagger big band that’s been carved up in a Peckinpah shootout and come out of it both crazed and leaner. Part sharp-dressed schizoid men, part lysergic spy movie cocktail, with an edging of amplifier hiss and flesh frenzy: the neurotic beast in the impeccable suit.
Up against these guys, and promising “big brash pop tunes with a sharp-edged alternative rock aftertaste”, HVMAN used to write glam-punk songs about beautiful people and E-numbers, full of blipping synths, dry songspiel asides and strutting guitar. They’ve now stirred in a deeper, rougher, and more yearning tone, some hurt-child dramatics, and the odd garnishing of bluesy resonator guitar. They’ve also added a new singer, Kane, who fits in with this sudden injection of classic-rock melodrama: although exactly how he bounces off the insouciant detachment of the band’s other singer, Louise, remains to be seen. For now, HVMAN (while citing Imagine Dragons, YYYs, Hurts and Talking Heads) suggest a clash of Ultrasound and The Flying Lizards over a few Eddie Vedder daydreams.
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On the other side of the fuzz pedal, Daylight Music are striving even harder than usual this week to merge community music, pop experimentation, and wood/string/space acoustica. Since this is the third or fourth time this season that they’ve put a scratch-choir singing pop hits on the bill (and the first time they’ve had one as the headliner), I was about to complain about a Daylight cosiness epidemic. Having had a look further down the list of the weekend’s acts I’d rather applaud them for their guile, their stealth and their soft-power persuasiveness. I shouldn’t have doubted them.
Arctic Circle presents:
Daylight Music 229 – Midsummer Madness: Victoria Park Singers, Kemper Norton + Settembre + Paul Reynolds Union Chapel, 19b Compton Terrace, Islington, London, N1 2UN, England
Saturday 25th June 2016, 12.00pm free event (suggested donation: £5.00) – information
“Obviously Daylight Music should hail the solstice; it’s the most Daylight possible!
“The Victoria Park Singers are a big community choir, singing a special selection of summer melodies, including songs by Stevie Wonder, Chaka Khan and Marvin Gaye.
“The ‘coastal slurtronic folk’ of Cornishman-turned-Brightonian Kemper Norton uses digital and analogue hardware and software, acoustic instruments , field recordings and traditional song to explore neglected or original areas of landscape and folklore. His most recent album, ‘Loor’, was inspired by real and imagined cities from childhood, bathed in traditional folk, found sounds and community chants, celebrations and invocations. ‘Loor’ (which is Cornish for moon) represents the next ambitious transmission in the expanding audio landscape that Kemper Norton is creating. The songs on the album are a loose trilogy of nocturnal encounters, searches and awakenings, often with Kemper Norton revisiting old foes from previous albums and encouraging new treacherous encounters. Today he also performs his solstice inspired songs.
“Settembre is a duo formed in 2015 by London-based Italian musicians Angela Cicchetti (vocals) and Ivan Imperiali (guitar). They take the essence of Italy’s songwriting tradition, and reshape it with elements from the great Brazilian, Spanish and Portuguese schools, creating a delightful combination of delicate singing and classical guitar informed by cantautori, fado, bossa and choro forms amongst others.
“Also this week, Paul Reynolds (usually to be found as the guitarist of Vespers) will be at the piano, weaving his chilled improvisations and atmospheric melodies through Daylight’s Summer celebration.”
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Copperhead Lucy + Boy And A Balloon MAP Studio Café, 46 Grafton Road, Kentish Town, London, NW5 3DU, England
Sunday 26th June 2016, 8.00pm – information
Further north in Camden, Map Studio Cafe continues the live sessions from local bands with a show by Americana quartet Copperhead Lucy. As they describe themselves, Copperhead Lucy were “formed after a chance encounter in a cello shop in Camden and based around the delicate voice and songs of Abigail Newis… (their) songs describe lives sometimes tragic, sometimes humorous, often morbid, set to a backdrop of junkyard drums, double bass and smoking hot guitar lines. Taking inspiration from the likes of Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Portishead and PJ Harvey, the songs run from ethereal whispers to raucous, tantrumic shouts.”
Here are a couple of videos, the second being a recording of the band’s first gig, back at Kentish Town’s Abbey in 2011 (a short, drunken stagger away from Map).
In support is Adam Hall, otherwise known as Boy And A Balloon (who played a Daylight Music show earlier in the month). Bringing his experience both as street musician and soul/pop session man to bear on a growing aesthetic of spontaneous roughness, Adam plays his own deliberately simple songs through a battered three-quarters-scale nylon-string guitar and a scratchy-toned broken-signalled busker’s amp, pursuing a philosophy of “songwriting will shine through roughness”, drawing on his own thirty-year span choice of pop music (from the ’40s to the ’70s) and musing on “the innocent and inevitable loss of something human, precious and innocent – so apparent in today’s fast paced and overwhelming technological world.”
In London, there are two upcoming evenings of 1980s indie nostalgia this week, plus one evening of metallic futurism. Read on…
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Adrian Gibson Music Productions presents:
The Monochrome Set + Bob Collins & The Full Nelson + The Wimmins Institute 100 Club, 100 Oxford Street, Soho, London W1D 1LL, England
Friday 4th March 2016, 7.30pm – more information
Originally springing from late ‘70s London post-punk (within which they shared, in the early stages, connections and members with the similarly stagey but far cruder Adam & The Ants) The Monochrome Set blossomed in the early ’80s, presenting a very different take on New Wave. Surrounded by clipped and speedy back-to-basics bands, their singer and creative core Bid took an ostensibly fusty and intellectual approach but shook the dust out of it; deploying oblique wordplay and bricolage guitarwork as the tools for delivering his witty, wandering songs. A young Julian Cope once dismissed the band as being too English, too uptight and a little too prog. Bid might have countered by citing his Velvet Underground influences (including the mysterious, ambiguous film projections which were a Monochrome Set live trademark and established them as one of the most committed multi-media rock bands) and his preference for “avant-garde beat-group juddering” over either four-square rock’n’roll or prog frills.
Unsurprisingly The Monochrome Set’s legacy includes bands at the artful and overtly theatrical end of the spectrum. Direct descendants include Scarlet’s Well (Bid’s post-Set bid to marry antique weird fiction with Anglican post-punk and a girl’s-boarding-school vibe) and David Devant & His Spirit Wife (whose startling mixture of clever glam and music-hall stage magic was anchored by formet Set guitarist Foz). Less directly, the band provided the requisite blueprint of archness, wit and fine-art guitar stylings for the nascent Smiths, and for the oblique literate cleverness of Franz Ferdinand and the capering-yet-serious surrealism of Sleepy People. The brain aneurysm and stroke that Bid suffered in 2010 might have put an end to many musicians’ creative careers. In that typically out-of-step Monochrome Set fashion, it actually cemented the band’s then-recent return to action, with a recovered Bid still a strong creative force and (if anything) fascinated and inspired by his post-illness physiological rewiring and subconscious changes, especially when they manifest in the band’s music.
Bob Collins & The Full Nelson draw on the Medway lineage of pop, psychedelia, indie-rock and punk-blues. The band reunites a number of the key members of The Dentists – jangling, pre-Britpop Chatham absurdists who first walked their elongated wobbly line between pop and art pranks in 1983. Despite formally splitting in 1995, the band has never entirely gone away. Onetime lead guitarist Bob has already worked with assorted former partners in Fortress Madonna and The Great Lines; for The Full Nelson he teams up with Dentists drummer Rob Grigg and bass player Mark Aitken (a former bandmate from Bob’s time with Ascoyne d’Ascoyne).
Although the Full Nelson got it together in 2007, they’ve waited eight years to make an actual album: a long time, especially by the fertile DIY rock standards of the Medway scene. Their debut album ‘Telescopic Victory Kiss’ broke the drought last year, drawing on Bob’s years as a solo acoustic act and Medway Scene historian, its bucketing melodicism recalling The Who and Bob Mould’s Sugar as well as its Kent garage forebears.
They’ve been described by ex-Chumbawamban Boff Whalley as “wonderfully, tunefully, angrily unprofessional“, but with winning insouciance, pop-punkers The Wimmins Institute describe themselves as simply “a bunch of wimmins with instruments”, demystifying both their bandwork and their feminism at an offhand stroke. It sits well with what they actually are. There’s history and ties with a number of political music movements here, including Riot Grrl, Ladyfest and broad-left-wing campaigning. Of the four members, Jen Denitto and Deb van der Geugten (Americans abroad, initially caught up in 1990s London punk meshings) were both members of Linus (while Jen has also passed through both The Monochrome Set and Scarlet’s Well). Cassie Fox and Melissa Reardon are part of libertarian socialist rhythm-and-blues band Thee Faction.
In this case, though, history is a distant section to the immediate present; and the Institute’s main purpose seems to be to remind us that feminism can often be about women engaging with fun constructive skepticism and visibly enjoying themselves while doing it. Onstage and on record, singing and instrumental roles are swapped around at will and without regard to hierarchy, trumpets are tootled and any messages are put across in a sprawling scrap of noisy uncomplicated play. The single ‘Mansplaining’ encapsulates the band’s punky irreverence and their lippy but unmalicious spirit of resistance.
Playing on the same bill this week, returning veterans The June Brides and The Wolfhounds have a number of things in common. Both formed in or around London within a few years of each other in the mid-‘80s; both released their first material on the ill-fated Pink label. They even played together long ago, to the point where Wolfhounds frontman David Callahan can comment (with sardonic affection) that this week’s show “replicat(es) the Ambulance Station in 1985, except this time The Wedding Present are so late they’re not even on the bill.” Both also took a long fifteen to twenty-three year break before their twenty-first century comebacks – The Wolfhounds first tentatively reunited tentatively in 2005, The June Brides in 2009 and (after intermittent one-offs and occasionals) both bands returned to regular action in 2012.
What’s most likely to be cited is that both the Brides and the ‘Hounds are associated – for better or for worse – with NME’s legendary ‘C86’ compilation cassette. Thirty years old this year, C86 serves as both inspiration and albatross. Still a touchstone for indie jangle-pop as genre, history and (effectively) way of life, it’s long since generated its own shower of clichés about a shared guitar-pop ethos, mostly white and slightly fey (and some of it, by implication, fighting a rearguard action in the face of oncoming hip hop), More recently another, more attractive ‘C86’ trope has been gaining traction, remembering the project as a celebration of recording and songwriting initiative; cottage labels and scenes ignored by and detached from the glut of London yet coming together in a common purpose.
I’ve got to admit that I can’t add a new twist to that summary: nor to the one which suggests that ‘C86’ was also a marriage of convenience between assorted bands which actually differed widely. Beyond their shared intelligence, a little practical and cultural geography and the sympathies that come with both bands having fed their inspiration (and taken their lumps) at the same point in time and culture) there’s not so much to link The June Brides and The Wolfhounds. The Brides released comparatively little – just four singles and the mini-album “There Are Eight Million Stories’, although the latter topped the British indie charts for a month. In contrast, the more prolific Wolfhounds managed four albums and a clutch of additionals across four years (while evolving from a skewed pop/rock act into a noisy brutally textured art-rock band) but never quite hit the same commercial heights. The Brides gently post-punkified a version of early ‘60s Anglo-pop, simultaneously undercutting and underpinning their upbeat verdigrised trumpet lines with deft, flint-chipping rhythm guitar (as if Anthony Newley had temporarily poached Will Sergeant from Echo & The Bunnymen). While you could discern traces of ‘60s beat-pop in The Wolfhounds, the band were a rawer and leaner beast: straightahead guitars shading, over time, into art-noise.
Thoughtful and articulate though The Wolfhounds were, Callahan’s tense wiry voice (always on the brink of a ripping sneer) perpetually hinted at something nastier, or at least at being on the brink of a withering analysis of the world around him. With the June Brides, Phil Wilson sang pillow-soft and easy, letting his astute, observational lyrics work around the friendly puff and wheeze of the tunes. Callahan’s were more likely to hit you on the bridge of the nose and wake you up. The June Brides would write the blueprint for Belle & Sebastian. It’s a little less easy to trace those who explicitly followed the path the Wolfhounds hacked out; although the excellence of Callahan’s prickly, visionary subsequent work with the sampler-crazed Moonshake makes at least as good a legacy.
Now reunited as individual bands and as tourmates, the two bands aren’t hitting the nostalgia circuit as hard as some of their peers; but they’re playing as if it mattered, under their own terms, to people who also think it mattered. It’s dignified, it’s consistent; and if you think that such words are coffins then perhaps you never picked up on the integrity of each band’s work. They might not have been pompous about it, but these guys were always about craft and smarts. Thirty years on, they still are.
In support are soft-voiced young Brightonians Clipper, who are still too new to have much up online; or, indeed, to have much written about them yet. Ask me again in 2046…
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The sludge-rock and math-rock evening is provided by the ever-reliable Facemelter. From here on in, the words are theirs…
Chaos Theory presents The Facemelter:
A Horse Called War + Wren + The Broken Oak Duet The Black Heart, 2-3 Greenland Place, Camden Town, London, NW1 0AP, England
Thursday 4th March 2016, 7.30pm – more information
A Horse Called War are crusty sludge heroes from a backward town in Norfolk, who formed ten years ago, released an EP, played shows with bands like Raging Speedhorn and Weedeater, got some rave reviews in Terrorizer, Sludgelord and the like, then broke up in 2010. After a few of them had stints in other bands, including William English, they reformed last year and the UK metal community rejoiced! They’re back for their first London show in 2016 after playing to a rammed Devonshire Arms last year. Will be brutal.
After a stonking show supporting Bad Guys at Baba Yaga’s Hut’s Christmas show last year, a tour with Empress, and a slot with EARTHMASS and OHHMS at The Facemelter the year before, hardcore/sludge hybrid Wren are back to play new music from their upcoming sledgehammer of an EP ‘Host’, the follow up to 2015’s split with noise rock three-piece Irk. Featuring members of Facemelter favourites obe, Wren have moved beyond the post-metal leanings of their previous work and have taken a step into a darker, rawer, and more experimental realm of tonal vastness, demonstrating previously unheard elements within their repertoire. Utilising a core framework of Neurosis-inspired industrial sludge-metal and the biting noise-rock morass of The Jesus Lizard, Wren spawn a sonic alchemy that is both ambitiously referential, and jarringly unique.
The Broken Oak Duet are a progressive heavy-math-rock duo, featuring baritone guitarist Thomas Morgan and drummer Howard James Kenny. Having blown people’s minds last year when supporting bands like Raketkanon and playing at ArcTanGent, Handmade and Tramlines festivals, they’ve conducted a Kickstarter campaign in order to produce their debut album ‘Terrain’ and will be launching it at this gig.”
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More March gigs shortly… plenty of jazz, plus some nation-building events…
Although they’re young enough to be touching down for a 2012 debut, what Tonochrome ultimately resemble are a gaggle of 1970s rockers: ones who’ve been lucky enough to see the future only to then forget three-quarters of it, but who are doing their best to catch up regardless.
A scattered glut of pop knowledge and ambition is their fuel. From the central framework of Andres Razzini’s guitar and buttery soft-soul-inspired vocals, they hang a succession of overlapping musical approaches. Each of these is played with vigour while it’s in place, but is tossed aside as soon as a song’s over, or even before. The wardrobe in Tonochrome’s memory palace must be bursting – every visit there would be a swan dive into the mental equivalent of a mass of silks, jeans, capes and feather boas. This layering of ideas and styles (and the band’s restlessness as regards taking a final form) ensures that Tonochrome fit right in with the swarm of post-progressive rock bands that are currently rising to attention: but while they do share a member with Knifeworld, they have little in common with that band’s tumultuous and knotty psychedelia. Similarly, they’re not a band who wear their diversity like a fuck-you T-shirt. In spite of their restlessness, they never play with grate-and-chop disruptiveness.
Instead, they’re a much smoother proposition, like a slightly proggier Tears For Fears. Not in terms of Orzabal and co’s melodramatically distressed New Wave beginnings; Tonochrome are more in tune with the confident, eclectomaniac soul-pop version which came later. It’s the flair, or the flare; the way that Tonochrome (all of whom play beautifully and bring plenty of ideas to the party) can flickeringly recall both Bolan and the Buckleys, blur into a Beatles singalong by way of both Genesis and Alexander O’Neal, or take flight over a pulse of Spanish-flavoured funk. Whatever’s going on with that wardrobe, there’s also a feeling of curtains sweeping up and away and down; theatrically introducing new ideas, new burnishings.
Theatre – that’s appropriate. At root, Tonochrome’s songs are about performance and the battle with fear, that way that “time moves on, / slaps in the face.” Andres sings about launching, about halting, about taking or surrendering control: Let It Begin is a personal call to arms and activity, shuffling a lyric full of shows and races, walls and spectators, push-buttons and puppet-strings. Musically, it’s the ’70s as seen though the ’80s. Andres and Charlie Cawood chop out a hairy chug of hard-rock guitars, Steve Holmes’ kinked synth lines find common ground between P-Funk and Marillion, and Andres enjoys a luxuriant soul-man sprawl across the choruses. A soul song realised with prog methods, it settles into a lively stew of pop. Mike Elliott plunks his bass like a funky cello and sings along: someone else plays water percussion. From the clapalong riff that adds wiggle to the rhythms, to the squishy breakdown in the middle and the carnival-drumming finish, there’s enough on here to front a parade.
It’s a fine and confident opening; but that nagging sense of unease remains, however many musical layers the band run through their busy fingers. Eerie swerving Ebow lines cry whalesong trails through Waiting To Be Unveiled (a leaner, gliding cousin to the long-lost bewitchment of Levitation’s Even When Your Eyes Are Open). This time, Andres sings quietly and with trepidation: “The unknown may be terrifying, but it’s got such a pretty face. / No one can predict the future, / but I’ve got an ace…” The payoff, however, is pure heart-on-sleeve ’80s pop, vocals melting and caroling around a resolution: “I will abdicate my kingdom / for a chance to see the world.”
Starts And Ends sees Andres stripped of his band’s protection. Alone and shivering, he creates a haunting drape of melody with a lonely echoing electric guitar, a slow-falling ladder of jazzy chords and a rattlesnake breath of percussion. He sings of self-reliance (“on this road I’ve known / those who wait for signs and cues. / Trudging on, stones in their shoes… / By the side of the road / let go of heavy loads – / all you need is here,”) but the wound in his voice belies it. Throughout the EP, he works around the paradoxes of hope and fear. Necessary spurs, or killers of initiative? Blinding deceivers, or inspirations?
Andres is still puzzling it out over the Buckleyesque minor-key figures on Gods and Demons, wrestling with conflicting directions even as crunchy Jefferson Airplane choruses and slithering Spanish rhythms kick in alongside a fax-machine witter of noise guitar. On Punctuation Marks, he protests “I’m half-way and see no starting line” over a zip-and-dodge acoustic guitar as the rest of the band pass a swirl of r’n’b, prog-synth and shimmer-pop ideas through a storm of psychedelic noise. These doubts fit into Tonochrome’s world like their own teeth; like all of the varied influences the band’s spread of members weave into their tight and poppy rope of songcraft; just as this EP could be the harbinger of a solid career of eclectic rock if Tonochrome hold it together, or an early omen for a set of promising solo careers if they don’t. We may doubt, we’ll certainly hope. We’ll see.
Tonochrome: ‘Tonochrome’
Andres Razzini/Daniel Imaña, AR001 (610370590232)
CD/download EP
Released: 31st July 2012
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Misfit City 