Back at the Joiners, and the main room is empty. Two members of The Kiks
clamber on stage, and all of a sudden the room fills. Something tells me
that these guys are local, everyone entering seems to know them.
assume my position by the sound-desk, to take advantage of the Joiner's
awesome sound, and the set begins. There was a drunk friend of the band
dancing around spilling cider and blackcurrant everywhere as he did so,
completely out of time to the well structured songs that the Kiks were
throwing out. A four piece, their ages were all around the mid thirties
I'd say, besides the bassist, who could have easily been one of their
children.
The vocalist sang, mumbled, and moaned along to the fantastically written
music playing behind him, occasionally backed up by the guitarist to his
left. I really cannot stress how well their songs seemed to work, musically
that is. The chord sequences were easy enough, but second to none, and
everything was going well besides the front-man. His vocals weren't very
exciting, he looked like he couldn't give a toss, and his attempted guitar
solos all sounded samey and irritatingly poor. This is the only criticism
of the band I have; just because lots of the people in that room know
you, doesn't mean everyone does. Just because most have seen you before,
doesn't mean everybody has, and can rely on past memories of performances
to assure themselves you're good. This goes for the other guitarist too,
who kept making little comments between songs, barely audible, aimed at
their specialist following.
For a couple of songs, the vocal role fell into the hands of the guitarist,
and things were knocked up a gear with some singing that matched the music,
some musical spiel with a bit of oomph, you know what I'm saying. Even
the drummer couldn't help but yell along. The guitarist knew this was
his song, and you could tell. His entire stance changed as he sung and
played between verses, while the front-man bopped a little and played
his parts, facing away from the crowd.
Basically, The Kiks write good songs, and musically, they're ahead of
their game. It's a slightly punky feel, mainly just general rock, and
to sum them up in a couple of words, I'd just class them as an exceedingly
good pub-band.
The next band on, were Rival Joustas. And given the overwhelming support
once more, yes, that's right, they're from around here too. The first
thing you notice, is the drummer, with his wacky frizzy afro bouncing
about as you hear him checking his electronic drum-pads are working.
The set begins with the front-man facing away and playing some eerie
pad chords on a keyboard, and when the rest of the music begins, he stands,
and just simply goes nuts. Popping across the stage, jerking and twisting
at the hips and knees, hair flying everywhere.
Fighting Joustas have a good, and reasonably unique sound. It's not the
kind of thing you hear every day on the low-level live music scene. Progressive
rock like At-The-Drive-In with a bit of punk thrown in here and there,
dashes of Minus The Bear, and a sprinkle of Electonica. Now that's what
I call a recipe. The drumming was brilliant and worked wonderfully as
an underscore to some memorable guitar playing with more effects than
you can shake a stick at, and at times, some of the fastest strumming
I've ever really paid attention to. The vocalist was still going crazy,
but when he took a break to sing, his voice was amazing, and for one or
two moments in some songs, the notes he hit perfectly with such power;
mind-blowing. His “oh my God he's so into it” stage-show however,
did reach the point of OTT. The microphone swinging got tiring, especially
when his inability to watch it and catch led to missing off the beginnings
of verses and choruses, and the microphone in the mouth trick, well, I'm
not sure where that was going.
One of their songs, Animals, about “animals heads being cut up,”
apparently, was for those in the audience who “like the mysterious.”
A powerful song with a heavy intro and jabbing sounds throughout, the
vocalist climbed behind the drummer, and finally, up onto an amp on stage.
Hanging his microphone up over the lighting rig, he sung up into it like
some deranged lupine creature howling at the moon, before jumping down,
and continuing off stage into the crowd.
In another song, the drummer got up and jumped over his kit, grabbing
a tambourine and flinging himself into the crowd, performing a similar
twisting-jerking routine as had previous been displayed.
To sum up, Fighting Joustas are an original young high-octane band that
are fun to watch, and great to listen to. Follow them closely.
As the KBC set up, the fans that came for their own band, were leaving.
And I was outraged. I'm sorry but this is something that really gets on
my tits. If you pay to see a gig, you don't just leave before the headliner.
You stay, make the most of your money, and given them a chance. For the
KBC, it must have been quite irritating to watch so many people leaving,
but hey, it's their choice. They're still paid, and they're still missing
out.
Now, with only a smattering of people in the room, the KBC got ready
to play. The smallest drum kit I have seen in my life sat at the back,
with only a bass, snare, tom, hi-hat and cymbal, and in front, guitarist
and bassist. I do like my three-pieces, and this one isn't a let down.
Note-perfect precision between guitar and bass, and an impressively full
and powerful sound, make this Northern threesome bliss to watch.
With a similar apparent gift of finding chords that knit together as
if that's what music was invented for, the KBC compile up-beat songs with
brilliant structure. The vocals over the top are quite high-pitched and
whiney, but they're tuneful and fit the music well, described by the band
as Disco-House/Indie.
This is stupidly dancable music. The girls in front of me were already
managing to put together dance routines to the music, (as they do,) and
I found myself nodding and tapping away like there was no tomorrow.
Between the chords, particularly in one of the early songs, the bass
and guitar simultaneously play awesome riffs and licks, mirroring one
another as the fingers trail up and down the strings and fret-boards at
a scorching pace.
Song after song was indie music with notable hi-hat rhythms that made
your body twitch in time unwillingly, guitar and bass playing verging
on orgasmic, and all in all a sound that could blow your socks off, and
if you aren't wearing any socks, it would make your feet explode.
Review By Thom
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