Fontaines DC part two

Second time seeing Fontaines DC in a shortish while (last with Debbie before Xmas at Town & Country and this time it’s a bigger venue at the Brixton Academy. But first I meet Olly in the Bedford for a quick pint, only to avoid the rain you understand, then it’s back to mine where Lily-Rose makes pancakes, it being Shrove Tuesday, and Debbie makes gin & tonics, it being a Tuesday. Soon enough Cameron arrives and we’re off in the cold but dry night air to the underground. Out at Brixton we see Shaun at the Beehive but we’re not let in so we grab a pint with him inside the Academy and I luckily hand over my Arsenal card before he goes upstairs and we three go into the stalls to watch Toy. Read past reviews. Technically they should be great with a Stranglers bassy Hawkwind spacy vibe going on. Unfortunately to my mind they lack soul and grit and the only time I’ve enjoyed them has been at the Crows Nest at 2am having stupidly told them that afterwards. After a very lot of fannying about – how difficult is it to replace the 6 guitars of Toy’s rhythm guitarist with the 2 of Fontaines? – the main attraction appear on stage. Fontaines DC have attracted a far younger crowd than we I last saw them and a lot have Irish brogues. Accents not shoes. I’ve misplace Olly and Cameron and find myself in the mosh pit and after their first two energetic tunes realise that my phone has left my pocket which puts a damper on the rest of the set partly due to being pissed off and partly paranoid that my wallet and keys will also leave me. It’s non stop dancing where I am and soon enough I find myself rubbing shoulders, literally as we jump about, with my mates. Fountaines play a great set and I won’t go into the details except that we jump about between post punk Joy Division indie rock over to a bit more shouty hard core mosh pit inspiring punkiness with a little bit of Irish folksiness thrown in to let us catch our collective breath. Not a lot of chat from these lads but I guess the music and lyrics do the talking. They go down very well. Digressing, punk said it was ground zero at the time and it’s funny how it’s still seen as that with references to “post punk”. Although a few bands obviously blazed the way and it wasn’t an immaculate conception sent from up above it’s still seen as pre and post punk. I guess only the actual punk bands from the late 70s can call themselves punk without the post. Anyway FDC play their classics, OK their album mainly, and we are all very satisfied. No encore as is the norm, not even a weird dancing and singing along to an old song as we had with Black Midi and I forgot to tell you about in that review. Which was last week and with Olly too in Leeds by the way. After the band I try and find my phone on the floor. Apparently some bloke was caught nicking them and dropped about 6 before scarpering but mine’s not amongst them. Lots of interesting things on the floor including packets of white powder which I think is likely K the drug of choice with the young and probably responsible for the guy who pissed on the floor, puked on himself at the same time and then smelt liked he’d crapped himself. I wouldn’t usually subject you to such an appalling vision dear reader but just warning you against the lure of taking horse tranquillisers at a gig. After all our faffing about we get out too late to see Shaun who I assume has gone back over the river and at Balham we pop into the Bedford for a last drink. Unfortunately with a brush of my arm I knock mine over and a whole pint goes over Cameron’s jeans with Olly very helpfully telling him that not a drop went on himself. Ah, fatherly love. So it’s a cold walk home but at least Cameron gains a free pair of admittedly 2^nd hand, make that 3^rd hand now, jeans. Next day we’re all up early to leave and for me to get to a Vodafone shop where they very efficiently give me a new SIM. All in all an excellent evening despite our mishaps. Go see before they get too big and attract too many twats (there were a fair few there tonight).

Back to Black

Arrive Leeds on a stormy night but at least the train got here with no trampolines on the tracks. After dropping off my bag at left luggage I meet Ramsay for a quick pint and then head to the Belgrave to meet everyone else for food and beers including Ramsay's work mate and friend. Jon and Jo arrive but Olly and Cameron are stuck on the Pennines so once at the Irish Centre, last visited 2 decades ago?, we all meet up plus Poppy and Tom and troop inside. Not exactly the Brudenell but it's a pretty good layout if you're downstairs and bar easy to get to. First up is one of the guys from Bo Ningen who sings and shouts over backing tracks in a set veering from Eminemesque to Drakesque or similar. It's not my genre so don't quote me on that. Although interesting in parts a bit disappointing from someone from such a great and innovative band. Apparently his act is named Ill Japonia. We nip outside for some fresh air then back in and glad we left for a why as classical music being pumped out for some reason. Arty I guess. Then on come Black Midi complete with sax. They play an absolutely storming set ranging from post post-punk hard core to acid psyche jazz funk. I love it as do my mates Jon saying best live band for years. Not sure I'd go that far but pretty damn close. The set is not as hard core as the album and has a great dance groove running throughout whether a heavy beat for their hard core numbers or a funky dance vibe for the, well, funkier numbers. Are we not dancers. We are dancers. Some lovely melodic tunes counterpointed with discordant jazz like improv from both guitar and sax with crashing general noise and vocals remind me of Alternative TV or Blurt which is fantastic to hear again. At times the sax breaks remind of the sort of bands you'd stumble upon at festivals back in the day and at other times they are the best jazz funketeers since Kool and the Gang. And that is a great compliment in my book of music. Any lazy comparisons to The Fall are just that. Think Kool mixed with Talking Heads New York funkier tunes with a dash of Gong. Jon also reckons Jeff Buckley so let's throw him in too. Mix well and enjoy. All too soon they are off and with much waving to the crowed we're obviously not getting an encore. Fantastic. Olly and Cameron leave for their Pennine return, see you Tuesday guys, and Ramsay, Jo, Jon and me taxi to Otley where we chat music and crap til 2.30. Don't see Jon next morning he has followed Olly over the Pennines at an unearthly hour and Ramsay drives me to Menston for long haul to my parents in Keynsham, having passed where we were all at college and the Bourneville chocolate factory. After a couple of nights brother Duncan picks me up and we land at Jon's where we go see Bath City edge the game against Dulwich Hamlet, despite our magnificent passing game, courtesy of an admittedly great 3rd goal. Then back to Shrewton and now on train to London in time for The Arsenal vs Everton... Which was another thrilling 3-2 game this time my team coming out top despite the best efforts of the referee. The main difference between Dulwich Hamlet fans and Gooners (apart from the numbers) is that the latter sing The Referee's a Wanker and the former sing The Referee's a Tory. I know which I'd rather be.

Black Midi minus guitarist, forgot to take of the Bo Ningen guy.

The Hamlet on the attack

Forward Arsenal !  60 times more there than yesterday, but it was free for me instead of £13

The Rebel part 1

It's a wet and windy night (Storm Dennis) so Debbie and I call a cab rather than cycle. We arrive first and having bought drinks and chatting propped up at the bar soon enough Cardinal Fang take the stage. An odd looking group. Well, the front man definitely is in with an odd Aussie / public schoolboy look about him. The keyboard player looks like a guy I knew in Birmingham being one of the Mayhem Merchants (don't ask). They start off a bit odd, like they look, and haphazard with nothing quite fitting in. I couldn't hear the guitar (front man) that much and think he was playing the odd clashing bit rather than a rhythm. Mainly pushed along by the keyboards and their drum machine with the bassist and guitars and vocals popping in a bit. But they gradually pick up into what turns out to be a really good sort of Talking Heads, Hugh Cornwell, psych ish groove. So unsure whether the start was not as they wanted or part of the build up. Anyways left us on a high. By this time Pete, Wendy and Todd have arrived so we get a round and pop out back to brave the storm with the kids. Next up are a threesome of a drummer and two bassists. It's my sort of line up. The woman sings and plays traditional bass lines pushing the songs along with the drummer whilst the bloke on the other bass uses it more like a guitar running around the bottom of the neck (the high notes) and hitting chords too. He's very animated throwing guitar hero poses as he's playing which is a bit off putting both aesthetically and health and safety wise on the small Windmill stage. Sorry, I didn't say we're at the Windmill. Where else on a Saturday night!? The woman singer looks the part for a heavy rocker think Joan Jett and the Runaways. And she's a yank. It's a right rollicking rocking set with just the right amount of straight up heavy rock mixed with a modern groove. Yeah, Pretty Sick are pretty damn sick as the kids would say. So I'm enjoying it so far. And more to come. We hang around inside rather than getting beaten up by Dennis outside and the signs are not good. ELP and other prog rock on the sound system with the only relief being Reward which me and Pete can't think for the life of us who did it but Debs comes up with Julian Cope and of course it's The Teardrop Explodes. So maybe our prog rockers will have a psychedelic tinge? So next up are a twee looking group with a less that twee name Black Bordello. We've had 2 trios and we have an extra now. Drummer, bassist, keyboards and singer guitarist (the woman in the band). Again, a slowish start slightly meandering around the slower light side of indie mixed with a little bit of jazz and even a bit of French chanteuse thrown in reminding me of the Contrieres festival with the climax of Anti Social which turned out to be by a French band and not Skrewdriver. I digress. Wouldn't say it was prog rock though. Phew. Black Bordello pick up as they go on with the bassist especially impressing with his running style. I was watching in awe thinking that I'll have to stay with rock standards rather than tackle anything approaching jazz. I digress further. They come together with some fabulous indie arty jazz club tunes reminiscent of The Creatures that fabulous post Banshees Siouxsie and Budgie band. And our singer guitarist sounds like Siouxsie with strong soaring vocals and a great vocal range. She ditches the guitar and I think that makes the vocals even more of a core part of each song. At one point she says they're going to do a rock cover but I didn't recognise it. Perhaps some obscure Yes track beefed up a bit? They go down very well with the punters and a fair bit of grooving going on which to be fair the other two groups had too. After I say to the singer how good she was and reminds me of The Creatures. She hadn't heard of them but knew of Siouxsie and promised to check them out. Am sure bands get fed up with me telling them that they remind me of some band from the 1980s. I called her out for putting on prog rock but she said she liked it. Ah well. She also said she'd trained as an opera singer which explains the strong and versatile voice. From the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden to the Windmill up Brixton Hill. I know which I'd rather be playing at. Last up is the headliner (obviously!) The Rebel who is old enough to be the father of everyone else who's played and apparently is an old hand on the music scene. He's oddly dressed in a Superman baseball hat (not good) and comes with simply a guitar and musical box of tricks (aka synth drum machine thing). Again, a slowing slightly incoherent start although the lyrics if you catch them are meaningful and he's a good guitar player. As we get into the set he puts the box to good use pumping out a dancy beat and we're eased, or rather slung, into a full on banging dance party vibe with slick guitars and well yeah we all love it and feet are moving body grooving. Difficult to explain the sound but think of a hard core dance version of Killing an Arab with more psyche than The Cure (and they had it live) which is exactly what it was cos he covered that early Cure classic. Lovely. He has a Tuesday night residency here throughout June so we'll have to come back. After all the excitement we troop outside with Debs still clutching the bunch of bananas (did I forget to say these were a present from Wendy - very practical at a gig) to use our Uber apps. As usual I have major issues with two drivers who are meant to "at your location" calling me to say that they "can't get through the closed gates". I told them to go via Brixton Hill the fuckwits. Eventually Debbie takes control of my phone and one miraculously arrives within 2 minutes. Why can't I use Uber? Anyways it doesn't spoil another great evening at the Brixton Windmill. And the grumpy bar man (who threatened to chuck Simon out cos he had a bottle with him once) seems to have gone. And I re-instated the The Burnout sticker in the bogs. See pics.

Cardinal Fang thinking it's summer out there

Pretty Sick - note drummers head

Pretty sick lead bass bassist and drummer

Pretty Sick bass bassist

Black Bordello not exactly Siouxsie Sioux style

Black Bordello bassist making it look easy

The Rebel, well his hat

Bruce's The Burnout back where it matters! Next to the Hofmeister bear?!

The salubrious Windmill bog