The Cider Spiders, Masters of the Sea, OK Social Club, Colour Cells - Bakers Kilmarnock (31/3/12)

Who are The OK Social Club?
Spill it.
I want to know everything about them after seeing them play in Bakers in Kilmarnock.
Like a Scottish version of The Strokes they played a storming set in front of a partially disinterested crowd (their loss) who were mainly there to see the reunion of local heroes The Cider Spiders.
It's to the bands credit that the lack of an enthusiastic response from the audience didn't come close to putting a dent into what was an excellent 'you had to be there' performance.
By the midway point of their first song I was hooked and my attention didn't wane in the slightest as their set progressed.
To get back to the sound though, when I say The Strokes I don't want anyone thinking that they're the McStrokes, but instead that what I'm getting at is that they've delved into the punk past of the New York scene, and beyond, and drank from the same well of influences.
It's more a case that they're coming at the music from the same direction rather than trying to emulate Julian Casablancas and the boys.
There's a real freshness to their take on what they're doing.
This isn't the seventies, eighties, nineties or the naughties.
This isn't a band on a nostalgia trip.
Far from it.
This is young men forging their own path who simply have some excellent influences in their rear view mirror.
As short introductions to a band go this one ticked all the boxes and I hope to be hearing their name being whispered about rather loudly in the coming months.
They should get t-shirts printed that say 'The OK Social Club only do effortlessly cool'.
I'd buy one.
Soon after they had finished Masters of the Sea took to the stage and attempted to defy description.
I'm not really sure when the last time was that I seen such a musically anarchic band.
If there's a rule book to how music should be played then these guys have been tearing sheets out of it to use nonchalantly when the toilet roll runs out.
This band are the Twilight Zone. Nothing is as it should be.
You could lose count of how many time changes there are in a song, and just as you're managing to wrap your head around a Morricone styled waltz they start getting funky.
One minute Stevie Smith is conjuring up the ghost of Jim Morrison and the next he's encroaching on the territory of Grand Master Flash.
Sometimes it's as if the set hasn't been prearranged and we are watching a band jamming, but the bigger picture is that there's more cohesiveness to it than some may think.
Biggest surprise of the night is that people are getting it.
I've underestimated the crowds ability to be challenged and get on board with something that doesn't fit into the narrow confines of what is churned out on a weekly basis on television music channels.
I suppose I could rave about how much I enjoyed what they did, but it would just be a a bunch of jumbled words thrown down on the page.
I suppose the fairest and most accurate thing that can be said about Masters of the Sea is that they're not going to pander to you. You either get it or don't.
In a vibrant local music scene they're on the outside looking in, refusing to fit, and loving every second of it.
I guess what I'm saying is the world needs Masters of the sea.
The night was however always going to belong to The Cider Spiders.
This was the band that everyone was there to see, and expectations were set on high.
The good thing was that the Cider Spiders don't do disappointing if you exclude splitting up.
They're the shoulda, woulda, coulda band from Kilmarnock, and on the strength of this one solitary gig they showed everyone why.
With a name taken from the paranoid hallucinations that creep in the morning after the night before of binging on whatever is on offer the band more than live up to their local legendary status as hedonistic nutters.
Minx out front is a whirling and thrashing bare chested dervish who fires out tongue twisting staccato heavy lines like machine gun fire, and then intersperses them with moments when you can hear that this man really has some pipes on him.
The all out attack is only one string to his bow.
The band are solidly grooving behind him and there's a real sense that they can handle anything that is thrown at them.
It's been a while since this town has seen a crowd going nuts. Really nuts, and then with Kilmarnock Football Club wresting the cup from Celtics hands, and then this, it has been a double blow to the foundations of the town.
There's people on the east coats probably wondering why for the second time in ten days that their crockery is rattling in their cupboards.
It's the seismic shocks that are doing it that reverberated from Kilmarnock.
By the second song half the venue has stripped to the waste and bodies are being hoisted onto shoulders and rolling across a sea of hand.
It's not just the audience participating either.
Minx launches himself wildly into the crowd on more than one occasion and it's a wonder that the crowd let him out of their clutches.
It's a fantastic experience to see people singing along word for word with a local bands songs and losing themselves in the moment.
It's nights like these that smash the lie that the only good bands are the ones in the larger venues and stadiums.
Here is a band that could give any of the big boys a run for their money.
If there was any justice in the world then they would have been giant killers first time around.
That it didn't happen is neither here nor there. It has no bearing on how good they are.
Someone said to me that this performance was like controlled chaos.
Utter bollocks.
The brakes were off and no one was at the wheel.
As the last song imploded Minx once again took to the shoulders of the crowd.
Not to be outdone in the showman stakes guitarist Tiger joined him and very nearly crowd surfed from the stage to the bar at the back of the venue.
Security guys who are used to clubbers shaking their thang and the odd drunk throwing some macho shapes watched on in bemusement as this all took place, and fair play to them as they took it all on board for what it was and made sure everyone had a great evening without it being hampered by idiocy on the part of over excited patrons.
A fine balance was struck.
Unfortunately the same couldn't said about the alcohol consumption.
I'll be guessing that in the morning some fragile heads would have been held.
Beds would no doubt have been seen as an oasis of calm in a stormy sea, sick buckets would have been filled to overflowing and give it nine months and there could be a few new arrivals called Bakers to celebrate the night of their conception.
It was that sort of night.
'Mon the Spiders. You canny leave the story half written.
Come and save us from the mundane and take us to the land of unashamed debauchery.
(ColourCells were the first band of the night and I just missed them. If anyone want to contribute a review then I'll either add it to this (credited of course), or put it up as a stand alone review credited to the writer)