I don’t really agree with sharing weaknesses with anyone, but when it comes to music I’ll gladly unveil the kind of music that sends my heart fluttering and my legs to go like jelly. I like to listen to all kinds of music, but what really grabs my attention is something that sounds like a mixture of 60s Garage with something passionately aggressive. Something that moves you emotionally but also makes you want to slam your body into the nearest drum kit. With everyone else reeling off the bands that got them going with their indulgent end of year list, I’ll just ramble about a band that are relatively new (but probably aren’t.) Let’s not dwell on the past, let’s head into the unknown listening to a band that are everything I want from music.
The Ar-Kaics are 4 pals from Virginia. They sound like The Vagrants and The Gruesomes. They are my idea of a great time, my concept of a great band. The kind of band you’d hope someone would listen to and be inspired to go out and make their own kind of noise. They’ve got a basement band sound, you feel like when you listen to them you’re spying on a band rehearsing. The rawness in their sound is unlike anything I’ve heard recently, and it gives you some much needed faith in modern music.
Their songs are short. But part of you is wanting them to last a little while longer, but the other part of you knows that it would just ruin the moments in your mind if it was stretched out. These are the songs for kids in cold, desolate bedrooms to throw their body around to. For those who are uncomfortable in their skin and are attempting to thrash their way out of their hell. The Ar-Kaics are one of those bands that don’t happen all too often, and I’m such a fool for not finding them sooner. I just believe that music should leave you feeling something. It doesn’t matter what, but it’s always useful when it is something positive. The Ar-Kaics have that teenage lust/wonder in their music that is so important to hold onto. When you lose that as you head into adulthood, you cling onto the feelings of youth wherever you can.
If like me you are wishing to escape everyone lobbing Christmas songs your way, The Ar-Kaics are the dream band to listen to whilst you escape it all. Go back in time, or forward a couple months. The Ar-Kaics could be anyone’s favourite band, so let it start with you.
You can listen to their gorgeous sounds right here:
Canada as I’ve mentioned before is the home to some great music, but for me there is one band that have massively blown me away with their appealing rage and passion. I discovered Flesh Rag a few months ago whilst in All Ages Records. A brilliant record store in Camden that stocks some of the best music around. It’s ran by guys who know their stuff and are just a pleasure to talk to. I’ve spent many lunch breaks in there forgoing buying something to eat because I’d rather my ears fed than my belly full. I was immediately hooked by Flesh Rag because they reminded me so much of Dead Boys, who I highly regard as one of the greatest bands ever.
Their new 3 track EP consists of songs that do not reach the 3 minute mark but that does not matter. The fury and urgency are put across in a way that doesn’t require any more time. The songs are for the hopeless, helpless and those who are fed up. To feel these emotions all you need to do is put the news on and see how the government are bending us all over and having their way with us, without any say so. I mean Flesh Rag aren’t really political, but it’s easy to apply songs that stir something in you like this and apply it to what you see on the TV etc. If you’re not fed up and you’re all okay with it all, then you’re just part of the problem.
I got home when I bought it this week and played it pretty loud. Nobody was home and I doubt the neighbours were home. I played it and off I went to Punk paradise. I was front row at their show in my mind. Bodies covered in sweat moving around in timely and untimely fashion. What I get from the music of Flesh Rag is that it is made for a live show. The day they come to England will be a bloody great day, but until then I live with the images in my mind that I have created. The power of music greater than we know, and that’s one of the many reasons as to why I adore the music that Flesh Rag make.
I wasn’t born when Punk first came around, but it’s always been the one style of music that owned my heart more than anything or anyone else could. I remember falling in love with the Ramones for the first time, I remember hearing Horses for the first time, I remember hearing the Sex Pistols and knowing that this was IT. Flesh Rag have brought up these feelings that I got the first time with those I’ve mentioned, and more. I feel like I’ve gone back to the 70s and been thrown into a world of chaos and fury. As someone who cannot settle into a daily routine, Flesh Rag are the perfect band to help me adjust. I’d take better care if I knew how. Panic attacks bring on migraines and migraines bring on panic attacks- music is the thing that eases it all out. Unless it’s a really bad migraine and all I can do is just sleep. You sometimes find yourself delving into thoughts and feelings when a band hits you in the gut for the first time, and with Flesh Rag I know that feeling is going to happen each time I listen to them. I’m pretty sure I got the last copy of the 7″ from AAR, so I’m sorry if you were looking for it- but to know that there’s a place for these guys makes it all worth it. Their music is the opposite of how I am, and I think that again, is part of my attraction to their music.
Matt’s gritty snarl on It Ain’t Enough is one of my favourite music based moments of the year. You can keep what the mainstream radio shoves down your neck and shove it up your you know where- I’d take a band like Flesh Rag over them any day. The sheer grittiness in the vocals and the angst in the drums, bass and guitar makes you want to start your own kind of noise. Some are adamant that Punk is dead. But for me, Punk is an attitude, a way of being not just the music. Bands like Flesh Rag are keeping it alive. Ignore all that “Pop-Punk” shit, that’s nothing. You need bands like Flesh Rag. Let them help you get through daily life by creating music for you to lob your limbs about to, sweat it out and throw your body into a wall as if your possessed. I’m fairly sure anyone who has seen their live shows are super lucky, so I’ll wait my turn. Live in my mind until it happens.
There have been many great records released this year, but as far as 7″ EPs go- Flesh Rag undoubtedly are the winners this year for the best release.
The self titled 7″ is out now on It’s Trash Records, and details for picking up a copy/streaming the release are here:
A week or so (okay maybe 2 now)after a gig is the perfect time to write a review, obviously. I’m good at being disorganised. The Creeping Ivies and Shannon played a venue near my house the day before my birthday (I’m now 29, and everything still feels the same. For better and worse.)
I’ve been a fan of The Creeping Ivies for some time, and to be honest I was at the gig for them. To see a band you really love the day before your birthday, well you can’t say no. I’d spent the week seeing bands considering my desire to spend my birthday “celebrating” it seems to decrease by the year- it made perfect sense to see a band instead. Their set consisted of old and new gems. Becca’s voiced ripped through the crowd like a screaming banshee. It was bloody brilliant, and there was no better venue for them (okay there probably is but you know.) The venue made you feel like you were the outcast at a school prom that was designed for the weirdos. Why would you want to be around anyone else? The Creeping Ivies warmed the crowd up perfectly with their Rockabilly/Punk sound. The band initally started as two, but as a three-piece they work equally as well. The songs sound bigger and creepier when you see them play live, you sort of imagine them to be like that off stage. This isn’t the case. It was so good to finally meet Becca after years of writing about her band, and they’re just a solid bunch of people. Neither of us understood why Shannon’s rider had baby carrots but each to their own. The Creeping Ivies put on a set that made you want more. They made you feel as if you weren’t in the depths of Hackney watching them. It didn’t feel like 2015. I felt like I was on another planet. For the most part, I usually am. Anywhere but here. They were easily one of the best bands I’ve seen live this year, and I’d urge anyone in Scotland to go see them. And when they venture down here again, I’d urge you to go see them. They’re the kind of band that John Peel would play on his show- at first at the wrong speed, then he’d keep playing it just so you understood the band. The Creeping Ivies are from another world and they sure as hell take you there with their eerie sound.
It dawned on me that I had written about Shannon And The Clams before. I think I’ve probably gone on about their girl group style to someone, they probably weren’t listening. On record Shannon And The Clams have this massive sound- so how can they bring that to a dingy stage in Hackney? Quite easily. They make you forget you’d ever heard of them before now. I forgot how they sounded on record, and since then I’ve realised not much will compare to their live shows. Shannon’s voice could make the toughest of the tough stand to attention. She calls out some doofus in the crowd who shouts obscenties at her, she plays the bass like a wild animal who’s been let loose from their cage, she makes you feel like you can take on the world. They are a superb live band, and I think anyone who hasn’t seen them is missing out. Each member has such a gorgeous presence on stage and it is so nice and fucking refreshing to watch a band who love what they do and see the love they have for each other. The kids in the crowd were going nuts for them, I’ve not seen this kind of reaction in a long time and it is so good to see kids really get into music like this. Totally letting go and not giving a fuck about anyone/anything other than the music. That’s how it is supposed to be. You know, a lot of London crowds are slated as being pretentious- and to an extent that’s true. It can happen anywhere. I’ve seen it in this city, but I’ve also seen crowds go apeshit to the bands they love. This gig will always stick out for me, mainly because the crowd were brilliant and both bands fed off that. They ended their set with a Del Shannon cover. They covered Runaway, and it’s a song I used to make my mum play constantly when I was younger, and I probably tried to sing a long also. Not much has changed, I still can’t carry a tune.
They are bands for the outsiders, for the kids and adults who just don’t care what you think. I was watching the crowd, and all I could see was a sea of people in awe and in love with the band in front of them. The sounds that have influenced Shannon And The Clams really shines in their live shows, and I live in hope that these kids will go home and indulge in the likes of the Shangri-Las, The Girlfriends etc. They have essence of the past mixed with something, much like The Creeping Ivies, from another planet.
Both bands put on a remarkable show in their own way. The Creeping Ivies sent you to another galaxy and Shannon And The Clams made you feel like you had gatecrashed a prom out of protest. It was brutal, it was fun and it was the perfect way to dive into my 29th year on this planet.
For some reason I never thought I would see my favourite band of all time live. I thought after the tour in 2004 that I had tickets for was cancelled, I wouldn’t have the chance again. Time wasn’t on my side and any dates announced after I couldn’t make. Would I really never see the songs that saved my life in the flesh? Would I never get the chance to see the band that gave me hope when I was a miserable teenager with no clear way out?
It happened. It finally happened. This evening I finally got to see Garbage live and it was everything I hoped it would be. I was stood downstairs in the midst of it all. And in the seating area was a friend from secondary school who loves them as much as I do. To know she was up there watching made the gig mean more. Two kids from a small island in the middle of south London watching the best band in the world.
The gig was a celebration of 20 years since the release of their debut record. I was about 9 years old when it came out. The video to Vow gripped me. I was old before my years. My father had just died and I was dealing with it however a kid is meant to. For me it was music, and that set in stone how I was to face daily life-through music.
The band walked on stage and I, like a wuss, cried. I cried because it was finally happening. I cried because everything that had happened in the lead up to this started to slip away. I’ll never be tough but I can work on being brave. That’s what Garbage’s music means to me and has taught me. Shirley Manson has ALWAYS been such a huge part in my life. Through knowing someone dealt with life in an unconventional way like I did when I was a teenager to making it to adulthood with a few scraps along the way. I made it, they made it. We all made it.
The anniversary shows consist of songs from the debut record and the gorgeous b-sides that came along for the ride also. Last week I watched in awe Patti Smith rip apart the Roundhouse. On the other side of the river I watched my other heroes do the same. From Shirley forgetting to put her underwear on to the euphoria that erupted as they tore into Only Happy When It Rains. It was such a beautiful sight and such a great thing to be part of.
Garbage welcome anyone and their music speaks to so many. They found me when I was lost, and to this day they continue to do so. I have my good days and I have my bad days, but one thing that’s always constant is this bands ability to drag me through hell and back.
As I looked on, I felt glad that I went the right way and ended up here. I finally got to see the band that own every inch of my heart and soul in the flesh. I’ll never see the Velvet Underground but Garbage created my love for music, the rest just followed. In some respects I was catapulted back to my teenage years but it felt like a blur and it was over far too quickly. In the best way possible, this was the most emotionally draining gig I’d ever been to. I guess it is because I had been waiting for so long and it got to the point where it just became this blur in my mind. But I’ll cling onto everything I witnessed and felt.
You don’t forget the songs that saved your life, the first band you fell in love with or things like that. Those things stick with you because they are what spurs you on and drags you along. I felt like I was watching Garbage 20 years ago. I felt like I was watching them back in 95/96, I didn’t feel like I was watching a band who have been around for so long. That’s what made it great and it felt like home.
Every generation needs a voice, a person who stands up and tells those in the wrong to fuck off. I regard Shirley as highly as Patti Smith. She stalks the stage like a majestic panther, pacing up and down. With her candy floss pink hair flowing around as she runs around the stage with determination and power. Creating shadow boxing like moves on the stage. The stage is her ring. She’s a fucking fighter and that’s why she’s on another level compared to most. The band sound stronger than most bands I’ve seen, and they make you feel like you’re watching a new band rather than one that’s been around for some time. It just adds to the reasons as to why they’re the best.
This obviously isn’t a typical review, and if you want something that will tell you what they wore etc you won’t find it here. Live music has this ability to bring something out of you that nothing else and no one else can. I guess you could call Garbage superheroes. They’re my heroes and have been for the past 20 years. It was emotionally draining to experience but it was for the greater good. Even writing it feels exhausting, but I think the show was a body of inspiration. I’ll probably never feel like this again seeing any other band, but that’s okay. I love a lot of bands, but none hold such weight in my heart like Garbage do. I probably sound like an overly sensitive mess, and maybe that’s what I am. But this band kept me going when nothing else did. They sometimes still do. You can feel this at any age, and as I get older I start to feel less ashamed about how I feel about things or how certain things make me feel.
This gig will stay with me a hell of a long time, and much like the music, perhaps it will serve as a crutch.
If by some weird bout of fate the band see this, thank you and I love you.
Beach House are one of those bands that can reduce anyone to floods of tears, regardless of how tough they are. They’re the kind of band you play when you feel out of sorts. I’ve managed to no longer associate them with personal situations as no good can ever come from it, if I did that I probably would never listen to them again. Aside from the chorus to Walk In The Park, I’ve learnt to let go of any personal connection. However they still can make me cry just because I bloody love them.
As I watched them on Friday I came to the realisation that when I die, I reckon my journey to wherever I’m headed will have Beach House playing. Their songs can curb hints of anxiety (as I refuse to go to the doctor about the panic attacks I have, I use music and it helps especially Beach House) and their songs can feel like a massive hug. There is something so special about Victoria’s voice. I remember when they first came out, and some were adamant that they singer was a guy. I guess they weren’t listening properly.
Their live shows for me isn’t just about the music. The visuals hook you in immediately. You make out the shadows of the band, and the darkness and stillness of it all really makes the show spectacular. Each song played is greeted with this loving glow, and it is so obvious just how treasured the band are. Beach House allowed fans to choose the songs played on the tour via their website. I religiously did this as soon as they announced this until late on Friday. I knew the songs I wanted, I kept one as a solid and the others I switched. Most of them were played, and regarding the new songs, I was all about hearing PPP. They played it and I felt like my heart had burst out of my chest and I was being transported elsewhere. I saw them 2 years ago in exactly the same venue, and I don’t think anywhere else would be suited for them.
Walk In The Park was played and I was fully expecting to sob like a child. Fortunately I kept it to a minimum. Probably because I was getting annoyed at the drunk idiots around us who felt the need to talk through it all. Just because it was a Friday and you’ve had a bit of wine doesn’t mean you have to be a massive twat does it? Actually for them, it probably does!
On record Beach House have this soothing quality, and of course they have that during their live shows. However the drums really heighten the importance of the sound. Where Alex and Victoria are delicate, the drums allow them to let go slightly and expose each song in a different way. Although I love rowdy bands such as Dead Boys and Fugazi, bands like Beach House are there to balance it all out. Different parts of us want different things.
Opening with Levitation felt so right, I doubt any other song should have been the opener. It was like an introduction for the journey they were about to take us all on. Five albums into their career and I think it is fair to state that they really are one of the best bands around, although I was probably declaring that when their debut came out. Their music feels like a walk on the beach late at night, on your own. I find them to be a band that I listen to with no one around. I guess it’s because they are so peaceful and for me being around loads of people is anything but peaceful (although I’m fine at gigs!)
Back to what I said at the start where I felt like the band would probably be playing at the end of this life. Beach House are a band that you can face all your fuck ups to and start over. Of course the second you start seeking approval from others you forget who you are, but sometimes you need to see what you’ve done and do what is necessary. Victoria’s words are like a hug for the soul and Alex’s guitar makes you feel as if you’re floating above the clouds- up and away from all you’ve ever known. Their music is a safety net, a form of protection. For them to convey this in their live shows takes guts, and as delicate as their sound is they do it so perfectly well.
I feel this “review” is pretty wanky because I’ve not really talked about the show, but it is one of those things that you need to experience for yourself in order to get what I’m on about. There is just something to special and heavenly about their sound and shows, and I know it is so boring and an utterly clichéd thing to say but it’s the truth. Everything they make you feel on record is grander when you witness it live. Their presence is subtle but powerful. Although they are quite reserved, they allow themselves to get lost in the music in their own way and I think some of the fans react in the same way. I could quite happily go to a Beach House show every night. The words and music just hit you in gut, and once they’ve got to you that’s it. Nothing else really matters. I felt like it was just me and them when I was watching them. My surroundings didn’t matter to me and more than usual I was oblivious to all around me (apart from the drunk idiots.)
I still stand by wanting Victoria to sing me to sleep every night, but until then I’ll cling onto the memories of Friday night. I appreciate the new records even more after hearing them live, and with all their songs I saw them all in a different light after hearing them live. Music means more to you when you see a band you love play the songs you love right before you. You can’t put a price on that experience at all.
In my time, I’ve only properly felt at home in one place. Brussels. On Saturday night I finally saw Patti Smith play with a full band, and it felt like home. The rest is beyond a feeling I can put into words but I’ll try. Not for the interest of others but for my own personal outlet.
Prior to Patti and the band taking to the stage, my stomach was doing somersaults over the PA playing Punk classics from the likes of The Damned and Ramones. The greats were being blasted out in anticipation of the Godmother of it all. As it got closer to the stage time, I started feeling like a child at Christmas. Nothing can top this feeling, nothing ever ever will. I’ve been to many gigs and a few have left an imprint on my mind and in my heart but I knew that this was going to take over from all I had known before. I was entering another world. A world that feels like home.
They walk onto the stage to nothing short of a reception fit for music royalty. Clenching a copy of Horses in her hands, holding it like a trophy. Maybe that’s what it is after all. A trophy to symbolise greatness and how it should be done. Everything from now on will not compare to this. No winning lottery ticket, nothing materialistic or otherwise will top this.
I’ve seen Patti twice in an intimate setting. The first was around a year ago when she played a tiny show in Howarth, after the show I met her and burst into tears. The second time was last Wednesday when she did a talk for The Guardian- an hour and a half of hearing her wisdom tales. Heaven. I’d been waiting and waiting to see her play with a full band. Any time she announced dates there was always something in the way. Nothing was stopping me from seeing her play Horses in full.
She reads the poem on the back of the record, removes her glasses and we all enter the world of Horses together as she rips into Gloria. That one line from a song owns many hearts, and is still regarded as one of the greatest lines of all time. With a gorgeous smirk she sings, “Jesus died for some body’s sins…but not mine!” If any part of a song is going to ring through the venue and out of the mouths of her fans, it was most definitely this one.
It wasn’t just about hearing the life-changing songs on Saturday night, it was her presence on stage that is so rare and so beautiful. Her sense of humour is priceless and just an absolute delight to witness. From her mishap with the zip on her jeans to her silver hair getting everywhere. She interacts with the crowd in a way most try far too hard to do. She’s a treasure, and I wonder after all these years- does she know how wonderful she is?
After playing Horses in full, we are treated to some delights. Hearts broke as she sang her tribute to Amy Winehouse, This Is The Girl. Playing in a venue that was right near where she lived, it just felt right for us all to listen to this beautiful tribute. If only she was still around. She should still be here, we all know that.
The band minus Patti tore into The Roundhouse with their tribute to the greatest band ever from New York (best band of all time) the Velvet Underground. Lenny, Jay, Tony and Jack blasted through Rock & Roll, I’m Waiting For The Man and White Light/White Heat as if the songs were their own and we were at Max’s. I’m no musician but I’ve always regarded Lenny Kaye as being the best guitarist of all time. His performance at The Roundhouse fully justified my thoughts on him, and I really hope the kids in the crowd left wanting to use the guitar as their weapon to inspire others. We need it, desperately.
There is something really empowering about seeing a woman who is close to my mum’s age spitting on the stage and saying “Come on motherfucker!” during Horses. From seeing her do her talks to seeing her on stage, it is like watching a different person but it is still our Patti Smith. The voice of so many, the truth and the reason. She was taught to question everything and in that, she’s made her fans do the same. There is nothing more unsettling than accepting what others tell you. Don’t buy into corporate bullshit and don’t let the government dictate your needs to you. Punk is still alive, and it is a state of mind.
I’m going back and forth between the songs as my mind keeps taking me back to Saturday night. During the breathtaking Elegie, Patti recited the name of the musicians and poets we have lost. Lou Reed, Robert Mapplethorpe and Fred Sonic Smith’s names were all greeted with such a powerful rapture it was like they were in the room. We don’t ever really fully lose someone, we just carry them around with us in different ways.
People Have The Power for me was the highlight because that song holds so much worth and importance. To hear everyone yell the song back at her and for Patti to tell us “Use your voice” was such a dominating factor of the night. The change comes from us- not anyone else. We all play a part in making things better, it isn’t up to just one person.
They end the set with a cover of The Who’s My Generation. It felt like watching a bunch of kids practise in their garage, it was insanely brilliant especially when Patti took off her boots and socks, grabbed her guitar and throttled it until strings snapped. She told us it was her generation’s greatest weapon, and it truly was. It still could be in others, I really hope it is.
The power in this show was something I know I’ll never experience again in any other band or singer I’ll see live. I’ll never get this feeling again. I left feeling as if I need to do something, I still have that feeling. There’s something we all need to do, and trying to figure it out is the toughest part. Everything after is just a ride. Patti and the band are real inspirational figures, and this show 40 years on after they first played here is a testament to everything they have ever done.
The show felt like a huge lion’s roar. A ripple sent through the crowd erupting into a frenzy of people who were ready. Ready for what? Anything. Everything. It doesn’t matter. The crowd was full of people who had been there the first time around and now bringing their kids, people who wanted to feel something, to be part of something truly life changing. I hope it was some lost 15 year old’s first ever show and they left with a fire in their belly and the desire to make their own movement.
Perfection doesn’t exist, something we all tell ourselves but hand on heart, this was the most perfect gig I’ve ever been to. As I head into my 29th year, I hope the dissatisfaction fades and turns into something less worthless. Patti taught me all I needed to know to get through my painful teens and on Saturday night, she spurred me into adulthood with a strong sense of self.
Do you ever listen to a band, and proceed to question what you’re doing with your life? Or what you aren’t doing? We plan our mental escape routes through things that we can’t touch such as music and films. I listen to certain bands, and I’m filled with this urge to pack up my records and go somewhere else. Certain places are romanticised in music. I guess real life shows how ugly it is. For me, London is at its best at night. Then again, anything and anyone looks half decent in the dark. For the most part I do love London. I just don’t like how cold some of the people can be. I know we’re all trying to get to and from work like everyone else, but just be fucking nice you know? Have some manners.
Cheap Riot are a band to make you get rid of your mundane tasks and to just go somewhere else. We all know that somewhere else is always better. My mum and stepdad are currently in Turin, and the photos make me see how soulless London is in comparison. Anyway, I’m projecting. I’m just annoyed that in a few weeks I’m 29, then next year I’m 30 and what have I done? Nothing. A lazy escapist with no sense of bravery. It’s alright, because the world clearly needs another idiot with a music blog (sarcasm.) Cheap Riot bring out this frustration and sorry, you’re getting the brunt of it. All sense of hopelessness and feeling bored just come out of their music. It’s the kind of music to do a load of nothing to whilst roaming the streets with office workers looking at you like you’re scum, “Get a job.” Whatever. (I have a job, I really like my job and it feels weird to feel that way at times.)
Cheap Riot have proper short Punk-ish songs. Declaring themselves as “part-time Punks” should not deter you. It lured me in, I wanted to see if they were what they said they were. Punk can be seen as quite redundant. There’s nothing more offensive than the style of music called “pop-punk.” Fortunately, Cheap Riot aren’t pop-punk and I doubt they are part-time Punks. Sure they sound like all the bands I love, but if I hated them I wouldn’t listen to them or write about them. Their snotty and bratty sound is a tamer take on the likes of Dead Boys and Black Flag, but the aggression is there. You can’t tame this kind of aggression and these Parisian guitar slinging noise makers are where it is at. Maybe Lester Bangs wouldn’t spit out his drink out over these guys, but I love them. I love how they are unapologetically loud and at times woeful in their songs. They could sing in obscure dialect and I’d still be moved by their music.
As mentioned previously I do love songs that last over 5 minutes, but sometimes I just want a 2 minute track and being made to feel like I’m being smacked in the face (fully aware that there are people who would gladly smack me in the mush, but you get my point.)
Friday sees the release of their debut record, Ballroom Portraits. It is loud, it is passionate and it is a record that makes you wholeheartedly believe in this band. It is instant love with Cheap Riot and I hope they hope on the Eurostar and play some shows over here. Again they are a band that I reckon you need to see live to really get their sound. Everyone needs a new band to fall hopelessly in love with, and for me Cheap Riot are exactly that band. They make you want to find some like-minded folks and make your own noise.
With it finally getting colder, it’s important to find music that makes it easier to deal with dark mornings that make you question why you’re leaving the house. I like my job, so for me it’s just the effort of having to deal with rude people on the tube every morning. Stop pushing people out the way and PLEASE brush your teeth before you leave the house, or have a mint. Coffee breath just makes me want to vomit. Awful. Gentle rage aside, I’m now going to write about a band who I love (obviously) and why their new record is (again,obviously) a stroke of genius.
Girls Names are one of those bands that managed to merge everything I love and look for in music into one. They sound like Mark E Smith in a fight with Edwyn Collins, with a bit of Josef K thrown in. For me it is music heaven. I’m not really sure what anyone else thinks, but I’m not fussed. Arms Around A Vision is a record that much like what I’ve written about recently, doesn’t make me feel like I am in 2015. Which let’s be honest, isn’t really a bad thing. Everything now revolves around how many people “know” you via social media sites rather than who actually gives a fuck about you. We’re all deathly scared of being lonely or being unlike our peers that we try too hard to be like them and losing any sense of a personality we once had. In short, Girls Names make me forget how awful everything is and how I feel like I am always on the outside looking in. I’ve never felt part of anything or like I “belonged.” This isn’t in a “woe is me” way. It’s just my interests don’t revolve around being drunk or taking a photo of myself whilst making everyone believe I am having a nice time. I’m sat in bed, listening to a band I love. Occasionally I look out the window, and I can see the lights of planes above my house. For me, that’s a nice time. I’m a bore to most. To myself? It doesn’t matter. Girls Names have this power in their new record to make you see things for how they are and taking you away from it.
Arms Around A Vision is made up of brilliant moments that show you exactly how great Girls Names are. I’m fully aware that’s a mundane statement. but it is entirely true. It’s a record to really gush about. It’s a record to fall in love with, and tell all your pals about. It’s like meeting someone who changes your life in a way no one else will understand, but you still want to tell everyone about. You get that instantly with the record, and records like that are hard to find. Some may struggle to “get” this record and dismiss it for what it isn’t. But as someone who absolutely adores this magnificent Belfast band, it is fair to say that it is a massive music highlight of the year. The songs make you feel like you’re in dark pub watching characters go about their business as you tuck into a stale bag of crisps. This is a record to listen to as you let the day pass you by. It’s a record to vent your frustrations out to. Sometimes I struggle with writing about music because the words don’t seem to want to come out, but Arms Around A Vision has triggered something.
What I love about Girls Names is their poetic and industrial atmosphere in their music. It feels like a grey day, for some that’s an insult but it’s so far from that. It is one of those records that you have to listen to when it is either night-time or the sky is a menacing grey. It’s the kind of record that sounds mighty fine now as it would in the 70s/80s. It’s got the guts of Punk and twinges of others. It’s like Suicide messed around with The Fall. I’m sure they’ve had every comparison under the sun lobbed at them, but I’m just mentioning bands I love and picking up on possible influences. It’s a hypnotic record from start to finish. Each song follows the other in a careful manner, and this effortlessly brilliant record should be high on everyone’s lists come the end of the year. I don’t like lists, but it’d be in my top 5 easily. It feels like you’ve been gripped by some unknown yet magnetic force. It doesn’t let you go, like a chokehold and as you gasp for air you start to struggle less and fall under the spell of Girls Names. Stunning.
I’ve been listening to Arms Around A Vision most evenings for the past week, and I’m trying to pick a song out as my favourite. It’s impossible. Each song fits perfectly into the other, creating something quite poetic in the mind. It has this haunting feeling of The Cure’s Seventeen Seconds. That’s a record I’ve used a reference for so many. What I mean is, if a record or song moves me in the same way that Seventeen Seconds does, then I know I’ve found something I’ll be listening to for a long long time. Girls Names have easily created something influential with this record. They make you want to make your own noise, on your own terms. The dark and eerie atmosphere on this record is heavenly and it is quite easy to shut everything off around you and just play this over and over. Lose your mind over this record.
UK tour starts next week:
15/10 – Liverpool – The Shipping Forecast
16/10 – Leeds – Beacons Festival Headrow House
17/10 – Leicester – The Musician Pub
18/10 – Bristol – START THE BUS
19/10 – London – The 100 Club
21/10 – Brighton – The Hope & Ruin
Followed by European dates. If I had the £££ I’d LOVE to see them in Brussels. I adore Brussels and I’m pretty sure they are a band that would sound perfect there.
Everyone has their own take on what makes a band great or what makes a band mean the world to them. I enjoy hearing why someone loves a band or a song. I’d rather discuss the ins and outs of a song with someone than hear about their political stance. It’s too personal and it can make people turn into arseholes.
Mary Weaver has a David Bowie feel to it. By that, I mean a lot of songs sound like Let’s Dance. I’ve never been into Bowie, but I can appreciate certain songs. Does that mean I hate this record? Not at all. If I hated it, I wouldn’t write about it. Coke Weed not only have a brilliant name that provides questionable search results, but they’re so underrated it hurts. Their sound is part elegant, part rebellion. They have this way of transporting you to and from where you are, and making you feel as if you are anywhere but where you are. Mary Weaver is made up of laid-back grooves mixed with blissed-out vocals. Everything about Mary Weaver feels like a summertime road trip. It’s still a bit warm here in London, I guess that means the world is going to end soon. The seasons are fucked up. Run to the hills, hide underground. I don’t know.
If I could dissect every song and tell you about them, I would. I used to do that. I know. Sorry, but I don’t want to bore you anymore than I have. I’m always looking for bands that sound a bit like The Cramps or Fugazi with a bit of Captain Beefheart. I basically want unlistenable noise. Coke Weed are nothing like that. They are the calmer part of my brain that loves the likes of Beach House etc. Where does Mary Weaver leave us? Is it the best thing Coke Weed have done? I don’t want to be that person and be utterly lazy, but it truly is their best record to date. Next one, and I’ll probably say the same. The thing is, when a band improves each time it isn’t a band thing. Prime example, I love The Kills and Crocodiles and they are two bands that ALWAYS sound better with each record. Every record sounds different, and that’s part of the charm. I don’t want to keep hearing the same sound. I hate routine and order, so for the bands I’m into to always sound different, that’s something I can really get behind. It makes them believable, you can sense the passion and the love for what they are doing.
Coke Weed have made a truly exceptional record here, and for me The Chill is my personal favourite. It’s one of my favourite songs I’ve heard all year. I love All The Shades and the depth of the lyrics. The record requires a lot of attention, but only with the second listen or so. First listen is all about falling in love with it. It’s an instant love. Then it becomes clear with the lyrics and how they are sung that this is a record with high importance. New Jive is one of the many key moments of the record. It’s the rebel of the record. For the most part Mary Weaver is a laid back work of art, but New Jive has this feel to it that The Stooges would be into. You can hear many influences in the record, and I can hear bands I love flowing in and out of certain songs. They’ve done it in an excellent way, and some bands are clear rip-offs of what has come before, but with Coke Weed it is subtle influences, and it just sounds so perfect.
If you want, you can sit back and dream away to this record. You can play it sky high and turn your neighbours onto it. The last 3 tracks on the record are again moments that stick out. For the most part you can listen to this record in any order, but the last 3 have to be played in order. You’ll know when you’ve heard it, trust me. It will sound out of place if you play them in a different order. I know I said I hated order and routine, but this is okay.
Mary Weaver is out on Friday, and you can stream it over the next few days here:
I got paid on Monday, so I decided to treat myself to a new record. I didn’t know what I wanted to buy, but I was going to buy something anyway. I went to All Ages Records in Camden. It’s my new favourite place in London. The bus from work stops right by it, so obviously it was fate. Sometimes in record stores the staff can be proper grumpy and a bit pretentious. This isn’t the case with All Ages. The guy who works there was one of the loveliest chaps I’ve ever met. Totally nuts about music and played a record at the wrong speed. My kind of person. Ever played Sex Pistols slowed down? I have. Sometimes by accident, other times because I’m easily amused. Another customer comes in, and by this stage I have a record in my hand. Suddenly, he plays something. I’ve convinced myself it’s Dead Boys. It isn’t. I’m told the other guy is after the record and there’s only one in the shop. A lunchtime brawl in Camden? I’ve not eaten so I’m unsure of the challenge. I’m a friendly Northerner, so I accept defeat without saying anything. Turns out, the guy was after something else and I end up with the record (a badge and a zine. I know how to live!)
Flesh Rag are brilliantly named and are as mental as they sound. They’re on the same level as Dead Boys. For snotty, obnoxious brats who don’t give a toss what you think. They’re loud and they are coming to deafen you. The louder you play them, the better. And if you can crank it up louder, then make sure you do it. You want this shaking the walls and scaring your neighbours. Again I reckon these guys are a band that you need to see live to really appreciate the music. They’ve got a proper Punk feel to them. It doesn’t feel forced or anything like that. It’s a genuine sound that needs to be heard. They aren’t for everyone. I’m pretty sure if I played them to certain people they’d think I was a bit mental, but I live in hope that there’s someone out there who digs this. I’m 100% sure my uncle would love this band. He got me into Punk, he’s to blame for my many music based obsessions.
Flesh Rage are the band that Lester Bangs would piss himself with excitement over. The kind of band The Stooges would have taken on tour and left a trail of destruction and mayhem. It’s chaotic bliss that leaves you feeling bruised all over. I feel like that anyway because I’ve got some cold/flu thing going on. Night Nurse is a lifesaver. I’ve had excellent sleep by taking this recently due to feeling ill. When I wake up I have no idea where I am (no more than usual.)
Each song feels like a glorious punch to the face. You feel as if someone is launching punches at you, and you just take it because, what else is there to do? These three guys are ferocious beats and are out for blood and guts. They’ll make you squirm- as if you can’t take the thrashing, but the thing is, these guys are making some of the rawest music around. You’ve heard Flowers Of Evil, right? You’ve heard Young Boys, right? On that level but a little more aggressive. Loud, powerful and a brutal attack on your general being.
The growling in the vocals, the rage in the drums, the electric shock in the guitar and the boldness of the bass are incredible, and they leave you wishing you could make noise like this. There’s nothing stopping you,
The songs don’t really last longer than 3 and a half minutes, so all you can do is keep it on repeat. Take what you can from the music. Invest in this band. They’re bloody great and someone needs to bring them to the UK. Urgently. Many great things have come from Canada, but Flesh Rag are probably the best band to come from there in a long, long time. They don’t hold back and they gnaw at your skin like a rabid dog.
Beat In My Bones. 