Sway
Camden Barfly
23.05.06
There aren’t many things more annoying than The Streets. But when I walked into a packed Barfly, I discovered one thing that was – Someone trying to BE The Streets. Thankfully who it was that was offending my ears left two songs later and I was able to enjoy the main support for the night – Sway.
Sway isn’t the most active performer on stage, he doesn’t dance around, he doesn’t even really move but his charisma and interaction with the crowd means he doesn’t have to. Joking with the crowd about how Scottish fans weren’t keen on his Union Jack bandana representing them, he launched into his verse from the Mitchell Brother’s Harvey Nicks, before doing his big songs, Little Derek, new single Products [“If you want to buy it, go buy it. If you don’t want to buy it, go buy it”] and his credit card hating Flo Fashion. Testing the crowd’s hip hop knowledge he dropped Dead Prez and MC Hammer, with a bit of Blur’s Parklife in between, and then finished off with the anthem to end them all, Up Your Speed. Absolutely brilliant.
Then it was time for Spank Rock to [finally] take the stage around 10.50. I must start by saying that I was standing in what was undoubtedly one of the worst crowds I’ve ever seen in my life – It was like standing in Madame Tussauds, with people seemingly only there to gain scene points for seeing a much touted band at a small venue, which is a shame for Spank Rock because their party infused electro-hip hop deserved a better crowd than this. Backyard Betty kicked things off and lead into Rick Rubin with What It Look Like being thrown in before we were told it was MC Spank Rock’s birthday and that the crowd needed to dance because the band had just got off the plane and were “drunk as shit”.
Thankfully for them, the introduction of the woman that had been sitting at the side of the stage, and who had been claiming much of MC Spank Rock’s attention in between songs, got things a little more amped. She jumped up to dance and stole the stage by rapping loudly and brashly as the rapper girated around her to the tunes of Bump. The heavy bass made me think the ceiling was about to cave in and the bleeping stunted melodies which are scattered throughout their album Yoyoyoyoyo sounded as crisp as a Gary Lineker fronted advert and when they hit Sweet Talk, they finally saw some movement in the crowd.
If they’d been infront of a crowd real hip hop heads, they would’ve had a better atmosphere to perform around, but regardless of the static crowd, they put on an energetic show with much booty shaking on stage. Next time they come over, make sure you check them out, but for their music, not for the kudos of listing the event on your MySpace page.
When you see a 6’5 man walk on stage in an Orthodox cloaked jacket and hat, the white light shining from behind him illuminating his every move and you hear the most beautiful chant-like voice coming from him, you look closer and take notice. And that’s what every single last person in the Hammersmith Palais did when Matisyahu stepped onto the stage and flew into his set.
It’s not often you can precisely pin-point the exact moment a radical change in music occurs. Metal, hardcore and punk were the results of a steady evolution in rock music that happened over many years, yet the first real combination of all three styles can be aimed squarely at the 1986 release of the Cro-Mags debut ‘Age Of Quarrel’ album.
The support of the evening is a band called the Horrors, which according to murmurings was exactly that. A horror!
Each member of the band is vastly talented. Nick takes photos like he plays guitar. The lightning fast guitarist has released a book, humorously called -“another book”. Karen lets none of the attention deflect off the rest of the band, as she drapes her arms around them after almost every song.
The Sounds Of The Underground tour, described as boasting ‘all the passion of hardcore mixed with the brutality of metal’, certainly lives up to its name – in that none of the acts involved in this UK leg have been afforded the ridiculous levels of hype and over-promotion that have plagued several of their peers (and in some cases, labelmates). It’s therefore pleasing to see that they’ve managed to pull a decent-sized crowd; with the downstairs standing area of the London Forum teeming with (mostly tattooed) punters eagerly awaiting the heavyweight thrills on offer tonight.
There’s a disconcertingly long wait for CHIMAIRA to take the stage, but the Ohio bruisers don’t disappoint tonight. The return of former drummer Andols Herrick to the fold has clearly strengthened the band’s renowned live power even further, and it’s a beautifully brutal sight to behold as ‘The Dehumanizing Process’ and ‘Salvation’ incite utter carnage in the pit. They barely pause for breath during this all-too-short set, and by the time live staple ‘Pure Hatred’ has tested the Forum’s foundations like never before, it’s clear to anyone with so much as a passing interest in metal that Chimaira are at the peak of their powers. An awe-inspiring end to an impressively diverse and heavy bill.
Upstairs at the Old Blue Last pub isn’t big. In fact, it’s about the same size as my living room and kitchen combined. But when its completely packed and the bar to the side is heaving under elbows so you’re sweating before anything has even begun, you know you’re going to be in for an energetic night. After the brilliant opening djs, the first of whom wore a cap that was in fact Donald Duck’s head and played some awesome dancehall and bashment and then was followed by an 80s throwback in tight yellow jeans mashing up classic old tracks [I’m talking “Uh Oh” by Shampoo here] with random house beats, it was time for the main support – Bonde Do Role.
What justice is there in a world where James Blunt can sell out every venue under the sun yet the Garage is less than half full tonight for what is arguably the best psychedelic pop band to swoop this earth since Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd tuned in and dropped far out? We shouldn’t be surprised. In a world where only the lowest common denominator will suffice, it’s hardly surprising that a band as wilfully strange as Swedish quartet Dungen would go over people’s heads. Plus, they have the guts to sing in their native tongue and aren’t afraid of damaging their commercial potential by not singing in English. And in the same way that some people won’t watch films with subtitles, some people won’t listen to Dungen, despite the fact that they write what are very odd, but very brilliant pop songs.
Picture a bunch of blokes with beer bellies and battered instruments, murdering a selection of your favourite songs in the back of a pub. That, my friends, is a typical covers band; there’s probably one playing just down the road from you tonight. Me First And The Gimme Gimmes, however, are something of an anomaly; a Californian covers band that not only feature NOFX leader Fat Mike amongst their ranks, but have also sold out two nights at the London Astoria – all thanks to their speedy punk rock covers of classic radio and show tunes. Bizarre? Tell me about it.
If you want your mind blown, Comets On Fire are the band for the job. Their freaked-out psychedelic abrasive noise is enough to make your skull crack. Easy listening this is not. If you want background music, go elsewhere. Comets On Fire travel the same uneven musical path as past free-form rockers like the MC5, Pink Floyd, Blue Cheer, Hawkwind and The Stooges and fill every inch of the venue with swirling, soaring guitar, rolling drums and bass and harsh, howling vocals. Anyone for some brown acid?
It’s Sunday night and a few hours ago I was out of my brains until 8am on the backfoot of a wedding that went into extra time! My brain is like a squashed orange under the wheels of a 4×4 in the street and how I find myself at Dingwalls watching one of the worst bands I have ever seen is incredible! They seem to be playing with their amps at 12 (not even 11!) is just simply questionable all round. The band are called Black Moses and quite frankly they suck. The singer sucks, their sound sucks and the soundman should be forced to suck eggs through hosepipes whilst gaffer-taped to a live cow cos this show was way too fucking loud and MY HEAD FUCKING HURTS, YOU TOTAL BASTARD!
With The Sword taking the bull by the horns and my head now mangled from high grade skunk and Guinness, Nebula came on stage and carried on where the Texans had left off. They love getting wasted but despite the rush of blood to their heads they came up with a tune for everyone. Stoner rock is, I suppose a fad that went down about 10 years ago, I guess the words are still used, as they are perfect. You get stoned, you nod and rock out, and all done in a 70’s way that pleases.