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shermaramaFirst of all, let me clarify something very important. Down the bottom of this there will be a line that says that I'm listening to the Dead Kennedys. This will not convey just how well it's going down. I'm sat here singing "why don't you take your social regulations and shove 'em up your ass!" with considerable relish.
I do have some things to work out about what I can say here. I think I've become more worried because there seem to be more people I could offend now, and that offence could have greater repercussions than before. Not with the current readership of this journal, exactly, but I feel I have to bear in mind this is a really public forum. My first reaction on naming that concern is to laugh at my paranoia and mock my self-importance, though, so see me take the official and executive decision to fuck it and say what I mean.
So, the Son of Nothing gig at Metaltek on Friday. The start of the evening was full of nervous exuberance when we realised we'd been given top of the bill ahead of two considerably more experienced bands, A Day Left and Hot Prophecy. The venue was everything advertised, that is, large, with a good open stage, decent backline, experienced sound engineers. Unfortunately it was also lots of other things that weren't advertised. It's more or less a social club for teeny Essex metallers. They're allowed in if over sixteen so for the benefit those who haven't got the ID for booze, the bar has an aspect of the school tuck shop. They come along and sit around and chat in Linkin Park t-shirts, and some of them paid some attention to the bands, and after the last band finishes at a bit after eleven, the bar closes and everyone goes home.
The people run the place are aggresively defensive about what they do. I should have brought up the fact that there were no sinks at all in the ladies just to hear what excuse they came up with. They insist on not doing soundchecks, citing these massively experienced sound engineers. The man at the desk on Friday seemed mainly interested in experiencing his girlfriend, so pretty much every band was poorly mixed. And one of the main purposes of a soundcheck to me is to work out the logistics and make changeovers far simpler, so without one it took ages and left problems with gear unsolved by the time we were supposed to be playing.
As for the actual music.. A Day Left would like to be Incubus, with a helping of Tool. They're very good at what they do, which is complex rhythms and intertwining guitar parts and unusual harmonies. The front man has charisma and a good patter, even if he does love himself a bit much. The bass player even bounces. For me they fell into a gap in my musical spectrum, though. Earlier in life I would have appreciated the dark sway of it, but been put off by the instrumental intricacy. Now I can appreciate what they're doing but am not much moved by things I can strike interesting poses to. It's a little too self-contained, music for itself and for being in a cool band than to reach out and say something to people. They held the attention of some of the dinky-metallers, but not many. I don't know where they're going to go.
Hot Prophecy are a two piece band, with one energetic and also singing drummer, and one man and a guitar and a microphone taking up the rest of the large stage. I suppose his voice being all over the place helps take up more of the available spectrum, if he sang true and clear the space around it would be more obvious. They did their best and got some sympathy dancers. They're not going to be the next White Stripes. Full marks for enthusiasm, especially as this was the last date of a national tour, apparently, but this as it is isn't going anywhere.
Call this a pessimistic review all round but we weren't exactly great either. The guitar gear kept cutting out so even when he was playing Yus was turned right down; a lot of the songs were slow or rather lacking in energy; Paul was nervous as hell for the first two songs; about the only bit that went right throughout, the vocals, were apparently all but inaudible to the audience. The stage is so deep that Oz on his platform seemed cut off from the rest of us, and we were nowhere near as coherent as we can manage in practices. Still, let's all wander round with our thumbs up declaring that it was a great gig, eh? And ok, it went better than it could have done and some people even seemed to like it but it was hardly great.
So I went home with Paul and Nat and stayed up late and got up the next morning and had a breakfast that couldn't be beat, namely, fishfinger, scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches, with salad cream and barbecue sauce. Yeah, it's not something I'd have chosen either but let me tell you, it works remarkably well. And from there I went to London and tried out for an all-girl three piece. I think I can safely say that they liked me and thought I'd be up to the job, and whether I get the gig comes down to if they find anyone they like more. Their manager talks big, and I think she might even know what she's talking about. There's nothing else to do but get on with other stuff until midweek when they've seen everyone else, though, so I'll do that.
I do have some things to work out about what I can say here. I think I've become more worried because there seem to be more people I could offend now, and that offence could have greater repercussions than before. Not with the current readership of this journal, exactly, but I feel I have to bear in mind this is a really public forum. My first reaction on naming that concern is to laugh at my paranoia and mock my self-importance, though, so see me take the official and executive decision to fuck it and say what I mean.
So, the Son of Nothing gig at Metaltek on Friday. The start of the evening was full of nervous exuberance when we realised we'd been given top of the bill ahead of two considerably more experienced bands, A Day Left and Hot Prophecy. The venue was everything advertised, that is, large, with a good open stage, decent backline, experienced sound engineers. Unfortunately it was also lots of other things that weren't advertised. It's more or less a social club for teeny Essex metallers. They're allowed in if over sixteen so for the benefit those who haven't got the ID for booze, the bar has an aspect of the school tuck shop. They come along and sit around and chat in Linkin Park t-shirts, and some of them paid some attention to the bands, and after the last band finishes at a bit after eleven, the bar closes and everyone goes home.
The people run the place are aggresively defensive about what they do. I should have brought up the fact that there were no sinks at all in the ladies just to hear what excuse they came up with. They insist on not doing soundchecks, citing these massively experienced sound engineers. The man at the desk on Friday seemed mainly interested in experiencing his girlfriend, so pretty much every band was poorly mixed. And one of the main purposes of a soundcheck to me is to work out the logistics and make changeovers far simpler, so without one it took ages and left problems with gear unsolved by the time we were supposed to be playing.
As for the actual music.. A Day Left would like to be Incubus, with a helping of Tool. They're very good at what they do, which is complex rhythms and intertwining guitar parts and unusual harmonies. The front man has charisma and a good patter, even if he does love himself a bit much. The bass player even bounces. For me they fell into a gap in my musical spectrum, though. Earlier in life I would have appreciated the dark sway of it, but been put off by the instrumental intricacy. Now I can appreciate what they're doing but am not much moved by things I can strike interesting poses to. It's a little too self-contained, music for itself and for being in a cool band than to reach out and say something to people. They held the attention of some of the dinky-metallers, but not many. I don't know where they're going to go.
Hot Prophecy are a two piece band, with one energetic and also singing drummer, and one man and a guitar and a microphone taking up the rest of the large stage. I suppose his voice being all over the place helps take up more of the available spectrum, if he sang true and clear the space around it would be more obvious. They did their best and got some sympathy dancers. They're not going to be the next White Stripes. Full marks for enthusiasm, especially as this was the last date of a national tour, apparently, but this as it is isn't going anywhere.
Call this a pessimistic review all round but we weren't exactly great either. The guitar gear kept cutting out so even when he was playing Yus was turned right down; a lot of the songs were slow or rather lacking in energy; Paul was nervous as hell for the first two songs; about the only bit that went right throughout, the vocals, were apparently all but inaudible to the audience. The stage is so deep that Oz on his platform seemed cut off from the rest of us, and we were nowhere near as coherent as we can manage in practices. Still, let's all wander round with our thumbs up declaring that it was a great gig, eh? And ok, it went better than it could have done and some people even seemed to like it but it was hardly great.
So I went home with Paul and Nat and stayed up late and got up the next morning and had a breakfast that couldn't be beat, namely, fishfinger, scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches, with salad cream and barbecue sauce. Yeah, it's not something I'd have chosen either but let me tell you, it works remarkably well. And from there I went to London and tried out for an all-girl three piece. I think I can safely say that they liked me and thought I'd be up to the job, and whether I get the gig comes down to if they find anyone they like more. Their manager talks big, and I think she might even know what she's talking about. There's nothing else to do but get on with other stuff until midweek when they've seen everyone else, though, so I'll do that.