Another Friday night gig at the SUB, and another low turn-out. Really someone should have a word. Still three excellent bands are on, with Leiden / Deventer heroes Boutros Bubba (who we have never seen play before, but whose ranks boast the mighty Spoelstra) kicking proceedings off. It’s fair to say they’re a rather odd bunch: a trio of unassuming and pretty daft lads who have something very gawky and slapdash and – well – silly about them. Their music creates a weird link between the most sluggish form of Math rock and raucous rock & roll, with the emphasis on changes of tempo and chord. There’s also a preoccupation with making an unholy racket. The singer & guitarist Jeroen, (he from Spoelstra), walks around in an exaggerated manner, keeping his legs in a triangular position like the soldiers in the Oath of the Horatii by David. All the time. And you get the feeling he quite likes doing it anyway, regardless of whether there’s an audience or not. In this context, the song in the set about a killer rabbit seems almost inevitable. Still, bemusement aside, they’re pretty darned good, and put on a very enjoyable show.
More mentalia is promise from another trio - Super Adventure Club, whose LPs Incendiary really like. Despite their reputation for being a bit “different” there’s not much outward sign of eccentricity from the band. Still, despite their quiet, studious demeanour, they create a bubbly, subversive sound full of surprises and accomplishment. It should also be said that they can really play and seem propelled by some inner vision that isn’t really from the standard “how to” book of rock semantics. The singer looks like he’s channelling all his energy and attention into ensuring he doesn’t lose his place - not surprising since you get the feeling that this isn’t the easiest set list to play - or maybe he’s just being obtuse, who knows? The set’s a mix between lengthy jams Beefheart/Soft Boys style and (deliberately?) over-twee, shambolic slowies handled by the girl bassist, that aren’t a million mile away from the stuff James Kirk did with Orange Juice. Near the end of the gig a couple of instrumentals (I think they’re off the Chalk Horror LP) really begin to steam up nicely indeed. Fabbo stuff.
Last up are Amsterdam duo Gone Bald, who create an almighty din, and fuse their rockisms into interesting and complex structures. We don’t stick about too long; two aural work outs are quite enough, and Gone Bald’s set is little else but intense: but we must say at this point that Gone Bald are obviously shit hot.
After this we somehow end up at a wedding reception & drink too much Cider. Such is life…