Who picks the support bands for the ABC? Come the revolution they’re first up against the wall. I’m not kidding. I’m issuing a fatwa on their arses.
Someone will probably claim that bands send in demos and the better ones get paired up with a suitable headlining act.
Bollocks.
After witnessing the performance tonight I’ll wager that a member of the band is either related to someone in the ABC, or one of them has a picture of the manager of the venue sucking donkey dick and has therefore secured an unheralded run of support slots for the foreseeable future for himself and his mates.
I’m not sure what they were called but the singer bellowed in a distorted mumble something like ’Hello. We are Rancid Fanny Pish Flaps’ and then proceeded to scream and grunt over everything.
I got the impression that they want to be a screamo Turbonegro if you can wrap your head around such a misguided concept.
After I got over how truly fuckin' horrendous the singer was I began to realize that the rest of the band were pretty good. In fact very good.
It was a classic case of four guys slogging their guts out and no one noticing because their front man commands all the attention, but not in a good way.
Every once in a while the singer would engage with the audience and say something inane and embarrassing. Even worse was a little dance he did while snapping his fingers. If he was attempting to do the moves that your old uncle does at a family wedding then he succeeded. If it was anything other than that then he failed miserably.
Something that speaks volumes about the performance was that I seen a guy head stage front when the band started up, then do a u-turn and head back to his seat when the singer opened his mouth.
Strangely enough there was a middle section of a song when the front man stopped screaming and revealed himself to have a voice not a million miles away from Alex Harvey. It was a very brief respite and just enough to make you think that their might be more to them. Then it all went tits up again.
Laugh out loud moment was when the singer dropped to his knees while the guitarist straddled him in a Bowie, Ronson style. The homoerotic thing only works when the two guys are good looking. It really doesn’t have the same impact when the guitarist looks like one of the Macc Lads whose just returned from a year long stay at a hippy commune.
Thank Christ Nashville Pussy were up next.
When they came on it was the proverbial chalk and cheese moment.
Seasoned veterans of stages all over the world they know exactly how to play a crowd and are well aware that it has little to do with theatrics and it’s more about playing a basic rock and roll show that will tear the roof off.
It’s a wrecking ball approach that works extremely well.
The cowpunk tag gets bandied about a lot when people talk about them, but that’s muddying the water a bit. It’s an attempt by people to add a cooler descriptive term because saying they’re simply a southern rock band isn’t fashionable enough for some.
A more honest assessment shows them to have far more in common with Lynyrd Skynyrd than any punk outfit, even if they do peddle that southern boogie with the urgency of punk.
This isn’t the type of rock show that appeals to young men struggling through puberty and wanking off to KISS though. Neither has it got anything to do with the long haired, bang your head, patrons of the new wave of british heavy metal sound either.
It’s simply balls to the wall party time. It’s about working hard, drinking hard, taking drugs, getting fucked up, partying and then doing it all again. Bit timeless the message really.
By the time they hit the cover of Nutbush City Limits I’m well into it and it’s starting to look like the band are going to have to be pulled off the stage. They give the impression that that unless you are giving it your all then there’s no point to it. Other bands should take note. It’s everything or nothing. No half measures will do. If you don’t feel it then it’s not working.
Guitarist Ruyter Suys is stunning. A rock goddess incarnate. If you plugged her into the national grid they could run a fair sized city of the energy she has. She struts about the stage like the yin to Angus Youngs yang, or like Angus Young with tits as I said.
The show is a pure adrenalin rush. Just as you think they have peaked they take it to the next level.
As it ends Ruyter literally tears the last few notes out of her guitar and as the feedback wails she takes a large swallow of whiskey and sprays it over………..well me an KelC. Lucky for KelC she had just turned and lent in for a cuddle so she got her hair liberally coated while I on the other hand was left with a face full of what tasted like a single malt.
FUCKINRAWKANDROLLMAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!
The Supersuckers didn’t waste any time coming on next and as with any headliner who have just witnessed a support band rip up the stage they know that they have to pull it out of the bag or they are going down. So there was little banter from Eddie Spaghetti and for the first few songs as it’s all about turning the heat up. Due to the time restraints it is obvious that they are hell bent on squeezing in as many songs as they can. It’s loud. It’s aggressive and it’s relentless. One track after another from their whole career are thrown out before Eddie finally relaxes a bit and starts in with his ’We’re the greatest rock and roll band in the world’ shtick.
It’s probably taken him to reach the quarter way stage before he is comfortable enough to say it, as to be honest it’s still neck and neck with Nashville Pussy.
Turning it down a bit may seem like the last thing that a band should do at this point, but that’s just what they do and start into some of their country material. This has been toured in the states before, but this is the first time that we in the UK have seen it, and even though it’s not the full shebang it has been worth waiting for. Having it as an interlude from the raucous rock and roll works well.
My only complaint would be that I would have been happy to experience more of it, but it’s straight back into hardcore rockin’ for the band.
Although they joke about being the greatest rock and roll band in the world with a degree of swaggering machismo they actually could very well be the real deal. Similar to their support they don’t need a gimmick and are happy to just set up and let the music do the talking.
As they power into born with a tail the crowd are starting to go nuts.
It’s at moments like this that I realize why I love live music so much. This is as far removed from the humdrum bullshit of everyday life as you could imagine.
I guess the Stones said it best. ’I know it’s only rock and roll but I love it, love it, yes I do.
christ ... for a minute there, i thought you were bitching about nashville pussy!
ReplyDeletenazz nomad
www.bleedinout.blogspot.com
Nah. No one bitches about the mighty "Pussy" in El Diablo town.
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