Revelation takes many forms, thankfully in the case of our author it provided only enlightenment rather than being commanded by a great voice to write a subsequently misinterpreted religious tome, it’s just a shame it does not always happen in the most salubrious locations.
Hacker has this little strut that plays off Anne’s calm very well. Like a rooster in the yard he inspects all elements in the band, ensuring all is present and correct before turning his beady eye on the audience.
To be berated like this by someone who is both obviously attractive AND strange AND incredibly powerful was too much for many.
See, WOLVON are not anaemic, or academic; they’re a powerful band with muscle and determination. You can have just as much fun as them in going nuts to Future Truths - the highlight on this particular night with its relentless pounding.
Things eventually got delirious, and people – shaking, giddy, laughing along didn’t want to let them go, despite the room throbbing and shaking to this crisp, unforgiving white noise.
Yoshimi is a four piece fronted by Niek who also plays guitar in agit-prop loons Gul Night Out. This band are nothing like the savage idiocy of Gul tho’, preferring a whimsical, Van Kooten en Bie take on things...
Basically you need to concentrate and if you’re intent on cutting rug or babbling onto your pal, there’s simply no point watching Herrek.
There has been much debate over what our saviour will look like when he arrives. Well now your humble author can put an end to years of religious speculation, and here’s a clue, he’s not a hippy.
Hopefully after being exposed to more challenging music her room will soon be festooned with pictures of that vision in corduroy J Willigoose Esq rather than a prepubescent, gas mask wearing fringe with a predilection for attacking photographers.
This is the music the ancients who put up stones at Callanish were listening to, but it was all just in their heads at the time.
...watching Attila the Stockbroker and Patrik Fitzgerald allowed another chance to cross the Styx and step back to more open, more spirited times....
In fact you could say (if you half closed your eyes, or swanned around the cinema area) that you were back at Club Zoo - albeit a far more professional one, without the bitching and the acid.
It’s been quite some time coming, not as long as certain albums I could mention, but at last The Stone Roses take to the stage. Well nearly. They’ll definitely play a bigger part in the next instalment.
This was a night when Rats on Rafts finally threw off any pretence of being a “leuk bandje” or a trendy/newsworthy/”controversial” act or any other of those miserable and oversimplified straightjackets that the Dutch media seem so happy to dish out to them.
I suppose all this waffle should lead you to realise that they were fantastic. It was a blast. They’re brilliant. Next time they’re in the playpen of Western Europe you need to see them.
Oh yeah, talking of the Voorstraat, what the bloody heck is that rabbit statue about? I think it’s shit and I need to be convinced of its place in the scheme of things.
I say this over and over; great music is informed by personality and intelligence – whether emotional or intellectual – coupled with the seizing of a moment to make the work itself. Not enough dudes take this on board nowadays, preferring to seek comfort in non-arguments and pseudo stylings. Well fuck that, Clinic were killer.
All you really have to know is, Swans turned up, and played the hell out of their brilliant new LP, to the point of creating something in that room that was – especially these days, rare as Ichor.
Dedicating a track to Pussy Riot and pushing the audience on, the gig, band and audience eventually dissolved in a sort of ur-Adventist piss up. Mission accomplished.