Photos of the band onstage at the Guitars Who Cares all-dayer, put on by Poupee Visage at Green Door Store (as you just might be able to tell from the glowing backdrop). They’re grainy because they’re stills from a video camera – sadly the footage was unusable because we were too loud for the mic. It was a good gig.
Some photos of Thursday’s full-band gig. Mik and Steve sounded great – dead showbiz.
Octopuses (Bouncy Castle single launch!)
alt indie dance from the bottom of the (Brighton) sea
Matt Finucane + band
chanelling Lou Reed stylings with backing band
folk singer songwriter…
live at the Prince Albert on Thursday 13th April
Doors Open: 8pm
tickets on the door only
by Pete Wiseman
Not been idle, as the ultra-swift sketch above shows – that’s me playing guitar at an open mic, you can tell by the eyebrows.
Been testing out a lot of new songs lately, getting a heavy slab of stage-time over the last few months – some of it transcendent, some of it pure fucking grim. But even the misfires excite me.
Okay, enough brand-management. What news? Put together an electric band end of last year, just a three-piece but very powerful and much more simpatico – in both senses – than my previous attempt, which was fine but hardly built to last. Our first gig will be here in Brighton sometime around 30th March, details still tbc. Before then I’ll be back at the Coach House with Sam Cutting on Thur 16th Feb – more info soon.
May this glorious new year bring you a few moments’ respite from the crushing fear and horror
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.