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The second-best thing
Feb. 3rd, 2005 01:11 amabout being in a band that does very fast and short songs, they're really easy when it comes to recordings and sound processing. If we need to do another take of a song, it takes another whole minute and a half. If I need to change the dynamics on the entire set of recording, it takes under a minute because there's only 17 minutes of PC-captured and trimmed-down live MD. File sizes are tiny, comparatively.
The best thing about being in this band is getting to play this stuff. It's a right laugh and I'm quite stunned, listening back, how fast I can drum these days. Here, have some of the more together tracks. The vocals are mostly unintelligible but this was one mic shoved in the middle of the room, it's not done bad considering.
Peace Punks Fuck Off
By The Nads
I Was A Teenage Bad Fuck
Mean while there was the gig and that went well. Minor histrionics from the promoters, but it's not unreasonable to ask if you're the next band on, I think, when three different sources of written information around the venue (two posters and another band's flyer) disagree about the running order and even what bands are on. We got an unexpected addition in the form of an eight piece African-rhythmed brass-sectioned collection of cheerfulness from New York, and could probably have lived without the two earnest lads in suits and ties fiddling with lots of boxes, a drum machine and one guitar. A band by the name of No Leader were trying to make a feature out of a weakness but they were in terrible need of someone to be in charge, to sing better and take control and chop about three minutes each out of the songs. Without the lead guitarist being badly distracted by trying to sing and with someone suitably dramatic up front they'd be in focussed dark energetic indie territory and doing far more justice to the excellent rhythm section. That someone probably doesn't need to be the woman running round leaving her phone number with just about everyone and trying to poach me as a drummer from right under Jodie's nose, who may have enthusiasm indeed but not, I suspect, any clue what to do with it.
The Derelicts were not *the* Derelidts but well worth the seeing. They have a frontman. He is unusual for the role in that whilst the three with stringed instruments all had mikes and made use of them, his does not get sung or spoken into. He provides the almost continuous harmonica backing line, and dances around like a loon, and does everything else you might imagine a frontman doing... just, in silent cinema version. The earlier songs plodded disappointingly but for the last three or four the fast but raw drummer got to let a little loose and everything started to jump. The encore was called something like Drunken Son Of A Bitch and considering the state of the promoter who jumped on stage and cajoled the audience and the band into believing that everyone was determined that they should do one more, was a very fine choice.
The best thing about being in this band is getting to play this stuff. It's a right laugh and I'm quite stunned, listening back, how fast I can drum these days. Here, have some of the more together tracks. The vocals are mostly unintelligible but this was one mic shoved in the middle of the room, it's not done bad considering.
Peace Punks Fuck Off
By The Nads
I Was A Teenage Bad Fuck
Mean while there was the gig and that went well. Minor histrionics from the promoters, but it's not unreasonable to ask if you're the next band on, I think, when three different sources of written information around the venue (two posters and another band's flyer) disagree about the running order and even what bands are on. We got an unexpected addition in the form of an eight piece African-rhythmed brass-sectioned collection of cheerfulness from New York, and could probably have lived without the two earnest lads in suits and ties fiddling with lots of boxes, a drum machine and one guitar. A band by the name of No Leader were trying to make a feature out of a weakness but they were in terrible need of someone to be in charge, to sing better and take control and chop about three minutes each out of the songs. Without the lead guitarist being badly distracted by trying to sing and with someone suitably dramatic up front they'd be in focussed dark energetic indie territory and doing far more justice to the excellent rhythm section. That someone probably doesn't need to be the woman running round leaving her phone number with just about everyone and trying to poach me as a drummer from right under Jodie's nose, who may have enthusiasm indeed but not, I suspect, any clue what to do with it.
The Derelicts were not *the* Derelidts but well worth the seeing. They have a frontman. He is unusual for the role in that whilst the three with stringed instruments all had mikes and made use of them, his does not get sung or spoken into. He provides the almost continuous harmonica backing line, and dances around like a loon, and does everything else you might imagine a frontman doing... just, in silent cinema version. The earlier songs plodded disappointingly but for the last three or four the fast but raw drummer got to let a little loose and everything started to jump. The encore was called something like Drunken Son Of A Bitch and considering the state of the promoter who jumped on stage and cajoled the audience and the band into believing that everyone was determined that they should do one more, was a very fine choice.
