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Posts tagged “rock

new(ish) Brighton bands I like

yeah, this is my fucking “critic” face

Just for a change, and because everyone loves a pundit, I fancy writing about local bands encountered recently who didn’t make me want to puke.

Well, not so much “writing” like a reviewer, more listing them in no particular order, without spoon-feeding – so you can discover their brilliance for yourself.  Also, lists are how we communicate nowadays:

Man Ray Sky – incredible layered guitar/electro soundscapes and vistas

Lutine – spooky anti-folk from the dark, dark ages (their debut gig in a church was stunning)

Thee Bald Knobbers – absolutely indescribable.  This link is live footage.  It’s terrifying.

Shonalika Tilak – a superb singer with some extremely dark, absorbing music

Stevie and the Nobodies – crunchy guitars, smart tunes, humour

Prissy Lips – utter fucking exotic trash glam

Plurals – drones and transcendence

Broken Ears – punchy, hard-edged acoustica (fairly new outfit, but already very strong)

& the marvellous Junkboy

An interesting mixture, and that’ll do for now – apologies to any I’ve missed out, although doubtless there’ll be more…  There were three very good acts at my recent launch gig, for example – check them out too.  In fact, check em all out.

 

 


BBC session – retrospect

The BBC Introducing: South live session we played is up on their site for the next 5 days, here.

We’ll get a recording of our songs, which were spread out across the broadcast, so I’ll probably upload it here &/or to Soundcloud at some point…  Till then, check out the programme.  It includes an interview, which I think went okay – the top of my head was spinning off somewhere in the upper atmosphere at the time.  Managed not to swear or otherwise disgrace myself – can recall that much.

In all, sounded nice and crunchy; in fact we were ear-splittingly loud.  No idea how the sound engineer made sense of this tidal sheet of fuzz, but what went on-air was magicked into something very tight and coherent, more so as we progressed.  The fact we were lean, ready and up for it must’ve helped too.

Abiding memory?  How swift and efficient the whole operation was – totally hassle-free, nice people to deal with – and, uh, playing with a big cardboard cut-out of Beloved National Treasure (and in my book, twat) David Jason as Del Boy, right in my eyeline.  That and the chundering monotony of football, everywhere, inescapable.

No, seriously though: it was a pleasure.  Had thought I was shackled to the acoustic guitar forevermore… Happily, I was wrong.