5th Aug - The Croft Bristol
Regrettably, I only caught the last bit of Serena's new band Winston Egbert... some craziness about aubergines that spun out far too quickly for my liking... Serena swapping her usual guitar for some drum massacring... Fortunately, managed a full portion of Matt's Fairhorns persona ... a wobbled sci-fi that seemed to be rebounding on a bent Perspex collider... Got seriously lost in all those mood swings he was plying, dark disco beans flipping into lovingly knackered kraut incentives... A hell of lot of discovery... His glasses falling off as he nodded out to the rhythmic spew... Little glimpses of tune marching out all dirgy and crumpled. Some gorgeous little ear hooks in there, dancing in their repetitive kernels, struggling to keep afloat on fluorescent battery acids...
The headliner, Foot Village were like the Thee Truth side of PTV's
Live In Gottingen but quadruple the tribal chaos, mixing in capacious amounts of incoherent yelling for good measure. A full on cathartic joy of a performance... must have been about 3 -4 drum kits all bunched into the middle of the floor, us spectators circling the periphery... A tiny girl giving out massive throat violence whilst those skins thrust the primitive into your face... Satan's horn stewing filthy spikes across it all... The irresistible urge to fling yourself stupid was totally irresistible, the need to open your lungs and yell frustrations to fuck... 110% satisfied!
Regrettably, I only caught the last bit of Serena's new band Winston Egbert... some craziness about aubergines that spun out far too quickly for my liking... Serena swapping her usual guitar for some drum massacring... Fortunately, managed a full portion of Matt's Fairhorns persona ... a wobbled sci-fi that seemed to be rebounding on a bent Perspex collider... Got seriously lost in all those mood swings he was plying, dark disco beans flipping into lovingly knackered kraut incentives... A hell of lot of discovery... His glasses falling off as he nodded out to the rhythmic spew... Little glimpses of tune marching out all dirgy and crumpled. Some gorgeous little ear hooks in there, dancing in their repetitive kernels, struggling to keep afloat on fluorescent battery acids...
The headliner, Foot Village were like the Thee Truth side of PTV's
Live In Gottingen but quadruple the tribal chaos, mixing in capacious amounts of incoherent yelling for good measure. A full on cathartic joy of a performance... must have been about 3 -4 drum kits all bunched into the middle of the floor, us spectators circling the periphery... A tiny girl giving out massive throat violence whilst those skins thrust the primitive into your face... Satan's horn stewing filthy spikes across it all... The irresistible urge to fling yourself stupid was totally irresistible, the need to open your lungs and yell frustrations to fuck... 110% satisfied!
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