Psicle: I love metal

It's the first very cold night of the year but a brisk walk from Old Street to Shoreditch keeps us warm and we have a drink in the Bridge pub which is very quirky and pretty pricey. Pete and Wendy are at the brilliantly, or rather lazily, named Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes watching the first band so we sup up and pop down to the cellar. We catch a few songs of Sweet Juno who's sound is really good. They play a sort of slacker indie with swirly guitar reminiscent of the Banshees. Competent and a good start to the evening given that I decided on the venue and night for convenience rather than knowing anything about the bands. We do our usual going upstairs to the bar to see if we can get a seat before coming downstairs again. Next up are Mopes who play a great set. They play a modern take on what I take to be americana so a sort of bluesy folky american rock at times. A bit 90's american indie tinges of Thurston Moore style but as the set goes on they regress. But in a very good way. The music gets a little harder and New York underground vibe sets in going back to 70's indie punk or new wave as we used to call it. Then further back to proto punk sounding like a less chaotic and less metal New York Dolls. Without the makeup. Well, most of them. Anyway that's the journey they sent me on. And the female bassist looks a bit like Joan Jett if I remember rightly. Or maybe that was just the Leffe Blond. If the small cellar was packed for Sweet Juno, which it was, then this is fuller although still space for those towards the front to dance about a bit. The singer asks how much time have they got and is told five minutes to which the crowd shout various clever replies such as three hour set and time for three more songs. My hilarious shout out. They play their last song of the set. And then an energetic encore. A great set showing a great versatility. With great finishes to their songs too. Upstairs downstairs again like goosey gander where the cellar is now not very crowded at all. That's the problem with cheap or free (as this one is) gigs as often the support bands mates turn up then go to the bar (worse if on a different floor or room) and don't bother to watch the main act. Anyway they have a tight bunch of followers at the front so it doesn't seem too empty. Birdfeeder are a metal influenced band who come over pretty heavy and dark. A good link to the first band who's front person was wearing a I 💓 Metal T shirt. Anyway the band are dark metal probably weaned on Sabbath or some other gawdawful dark metal bands. I'm not saying Sabbath were godawful tho some of their stuff is a little suspect but they spawned an awful lot of evil shite. This band aren't shite at all though. Having recently seen the light regarding jazz, although to be fair I've not searched any out since Ronnie Scotts, maybe now I'm seeing the light side of metal. Hopefully not. Debbie and Wendy are certainly not and go back upstairs to their ladies, or should I say womens, chamber. Pete and I stay for the rest of the set which is pretty good and I wouldn't actively avoid them in future. Their tightly knit group of followers are enjoying them with some lads bouncing around with arms round shoulders and hair flailing and a group of girls who look like they're in Shoreditch to find a trendy bar but stumbled into a metal club but they are grooving to the satanic beat too. An enjoyable set indeed. After a while they finish one song and then the singer sheepishly says that they have now run out of songs to play. Disappointed groans from the audience and me and Pete saying to each other why don't they just play them all again. Would we even realise? Anyway the band say they're going to do a quick jam and then launch into a fantastic heavy funk number that is getting everyone grooving along. Pete and I are just laughing about the change in style but it's brilliant. The kids are loving it and so are me and Pete. Their time on stage, well, at one end of the cellar as the stage is in fact the bit of the flooring next to the fireplace, over the band mumble their thanks and us old men go upstairs and aren't flung down again. We have a final drink whilst musing on spring classics, Budapest, skiing, le Tour and birthday outings (Debbie and Pete in January) before taking leave of each other and Debbie and I stride back to Old Street and tube back south. It seems to have warmed up a bit. A great night totally unexpected band wise. Must give the place another go soon.