And then, almost right on cue, you've got the Plimptons's new single launch at The 13th Note in Glasgow. Its one of these ones where they give out the CD for free and there's a screen set up for the video.
Kind of like a Mighty Boosh skit, there's something odd about how the sound is mixed though.
Showing posts with label 13th Note. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 13th Note. Show all posts
Saturday, 24 January 2009
Sunday, 8 June 2008
The Plimptons, The Squid, The Murderburgers - 13th Note
We'd been watching Twin Peaks:Fire Walk With Me beforehand, me, Nat and Del with a few bowls of mousaka.
When we arrived at the 13th Note, unlike gigs in London, it was only £4 in and you get a free CD, there was already a band on stage, either The Murderburgers or The Squid. They were fast energetic and punky, whoever they are.
Robbie is here, he wasn't impressed. I don't think my comrades were really that into the band, with quotes along the lines of "erm... non-existant", "Really good - according to Jason's girlfriend, I didn't really see them myself", "Nice haircuts, they smelled nice, very fizzy."
There's a lot of people I recognise here. Its been almost a year since I moved away from Glasgow, but folks from bands are still folks from bands:-
Robbie from IoMoPS
Paul Puppet from Scunner
Man Down Door
Joe Kane
The Owsley Sunshine
The Drive Carefully Crew
Billy from The Electroluvs
Soares and Paul from The Original Plimptons
Brendan from Teenage Fanclub
Wee Man from NEDS Kru
Dave, Chris, Katie and that wee guy from The Just Joans
Sophie from The Second Hand Marching Band
Natalie and Holly from Red Rocket
Jason and Craig from The Getset Go
Del from Linospankdiamond and the Syphilitic Bananas
A screen and projector are set up and after a few technical difficulties ironed out and pre-spiel by the director, the new Plimptons video is shown
It completely blows away any Plimptons video I've ever made, and in the words of Robbie "They have a sure-fire hit on their hands". If he's convinced then it must be right. What do you think?
Plimptons hit the stage, old songs and new songs, drummer Rowan's finished her tenure with them and after a final run through of Banjology, she leaves the stage and is replaced by Tommy from Los Destructos.
Ooh, Jason videoed the whole show, I hope it ends up online.
Bands
The Plimptons
The Murderburgers
The Squid
When we arrived at the 13th Note, unlike gigs in London, it was only £4 in and you get a free CD, there was already a band on stage, either The Murderburgers or The Squid. They were fast energetic and punky, whoever they are.
Robbie is here, he wasn't impressed. I don't think my comrades were really that into the band, with quotes along the lines of "erm... non-existant", "Really good - according to Jason's girlfriend, I didn't really see them myself", "Nice haircuts, they smelled nice, very fizzy."
There's a lot of people I recognise here. Its been almost a year since I moved away from Glasgow, but folks from bands are still folks from bands:-
Robbie from IoMoPS
Paul Puppet from Scunner
Man Down Door
Joe Kane
The Owsley Sunshine
The Drive Carefully Crew
Billy from The Electroluvs
Soares and Paul from The Original Plimptons
Brendan from Teenage Fanclub
Wee Man from NEDS Kru
Dave, Chris, Katie and that wee guy from The Just Joans
Sophie from The Second Hand Marching Band
Natalie and Holly from Red Rocket
Jason and Craig from The Getset Go
Del from Linospankdiamond and the Syphilitic Bananas
A screen and projector are set up and after a few technical difficulties ironed out and pre-spiel by the director, the new Plimptons video is shown
It completely blows away any Plimptons video I've ever made, and in the words of Robbie "They have a sure-fire hit on their hands". If he's convinced then it must be right. What do you think?
Plimptons hit the stage, old songs and new songs, drummer Rowan's finished her tenure with them and after a final run through of Banjology, she leaves the stage and is replaced by Tommy from Los Destructos.
Ooh, Jason videoed the whole show, I hope it ends up online.
Bands
The Plimptons
The Murderburgers
The Squid
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
Miss the Occupier, Antique Scream, Black Carnation – 13th Note
Stevie the organiser dude behind Equal and Opposite introduces me to the boys form antique Scream as a journalist for The Fly. He finds it hilarious that I’m there with a wee notepad and pen but after kicking him in the shins a few times he settles. The boys are dead nice and lavish me with a free t-shirt, CD and, best of all, badge. Turns out they’re from Mesa, a little town in Arizona where strangely enough I’ve visited.
Stevie jokes that tonight is the battle of the three pieces and Miss the Occupier come on stage. I realise I’d seen them at the Wickerman but hadn’t paid much attention at the time. They started off like a energetic punkier Elastica with male backing vocals although at some points I thought it was a feminine voice and got all confuzzled. By the third song singer/bassist Roz’ vocals are coming out really strong and I’m hearing definite Manic Street Preachers 00000000000 (Hey my cat just typed that- speaking in binary now Beau?) but with a more modern basslines providing a different sound. Their sound is solid and at points sound like there’s more going on than for a three piece.
All the songs tend to follow a minimalist verse light on guitar, vocals in time with the rhythm section (rat-a-tat-tat) that then fires into a rocking chorus that makes the song. The 6th song described as near to a love song as they do and again it reminds me of latter day MSP. ”Nothing Ever Perfect” finishes very fast and heavy with some impressive lady growling. Song number 9 struck me with “You make her ill she treats you alright, all night”. I hear that! Later in the evening Mr Snowball asks me what I thought of them and I tried being objective, well they’re punky and fun and energetic…”they’re shite” was his eloquent response and I concurred they might not be the next poet laureates but they sounded good.
I was looking forward to Antique Scream up next, such nice boys. They warm up playing with they’re sound effects and fancy guitar solos and then they get right into it. They sounded great could have been playing at a stadium but….. Led Zeppelin meets Jimi Hendrix. Now both band I love but I want to see something new! Vocalist sounds very much like lead singer from Reef without the warble – which is a good thing. Good old soaring rock vocals – can we turn them up a tad please? Oooh topless drummer, it’s been nigh on a week since I saw a naked gentleman shaped person. Little bits of Lenny Kravitz come into play as a result of the funky oldstylee rock n roll crossed with the smooth vocals. The drummer is amazing. He is banging away non-stop using the entire kit and his sheen of sweat is well deserved. Meanwhile the bass playing side-show bob lookielike is flailing around the stage using up the entire perimeter. Overall well entertaining technically excellent raunch rock but I can’t imagine them finding a niche in today’s market.
Is the Drummer that Timothy Dalton lookalike I fancy wot used to be in Wilbur Force? No not tall enough. Hey, maybe this chaps single. I read in the thirteenth note flyer that Black Carnation is “a bloody orgy of Jeff Buckley and Chris Cornell…with John Bonham on drums”. Oooh exciting! Oh shit is that a lassie sat behind me who’s boyfriend I used to snog years ago? I suddenly want to leave. I manage to stay for three songs. The first song demonstrates the Soundagardeny type riffs and the vocalist does have a Buckley tone to him. The second song however sounds distinctly like Queens of the Stone Age and by the third song I’m hearing the pixies with vocal harmonies very reminiscent of Alice in Chains. This would be my ideal superband but I don’t stay after this – I’ve got all the CDs at home and I’m tired and hungover.
Stevie jokes that tonight is the battle of the three pieces and Miss the Occupier come on stage. I realise I’d seen them at the Wickerman but hadn’t paid much attention at the time. They started off like a energetic punkier Elastica with male backing vocals although at some points I thought it was a feminine voice and got all confuzzled. By the third song singer/bassist Roz’ vocals are coming out really strong and I’m hearing definite Manic Street Preachers 00000000000 (Hey my cat just typed that- speaking in binary now Beau?) but with a more modern basslines providing a different sound. Their sound is solid and at points sound like there’s more going on than for a three piece.
All the songs tend to follow a minimalist verse light on guitar, vocals in time with the rhythm section (rat-a-tat-tat) that then fires into a rocking chorus that makes the song. The 6th song described as near to a love song as they do and again it reminds me of latter day MSP. ”Nothing Ever Perfect” finishes very fast and heavy with some impressive lady growling. Song number 9 struck me with “You make her ill she treats you alright, all night”. I hear that! Later in the evening Mr Snowball asks me what I thought of them and I tried being objective, well they’re punky and fun and energetic…”they’re shite” was his eloquent response and I concurred they might not be the next poet laureates but they sounded good.
I was looking forward to Antique Scream up next, such nice boys. They warm up playing with they’re sound effects and fancy guitar solos and then they get right into it. They sounded great could have been playing at a stadium but….. Led Zeppelin meets Jimi Hendrix. Now both band I love but I want to see something new! Vocalist sounds very much like lead singer from Reef without the warble – which is a good thing. Good old soaring rock vocals – can we turn them up a tad please? Oooh topless drummer, it’s been nigh on a week since I saw a naked gentleman shaped person. Little bits of Lenny Kravitz come into play as a result of the funky oldstylee rock n roll crossed with the smooth vocals. The drummer is amazing. He is banging away non-stop using the entire kit and his sheen of sweat is well deserved. Meanwhile the bass playing side-show bob lookielike is flailing around the stage using up the entire perimeter. Overall well entertaining technically excellent raunch rock but I can’t imagine them finding a niche in today’s market.
Is the Drummer that Timothy Dalton lookalike I fancy wot used to be in Wilbur Force? No not tall enough. Hey, maybe this chaps single. I read in the thirteenth note flyer that Black Carnation is “a bloody orgy of Jeff Buckley and Chris Cornell…with John Bonham on drums”. Oooh exciting! Oh shit is that a lassie sat behind me who’s boyfriend I used to snog years ago? I suddenly want to leave. I manage to stay for three songs. The first song demonstrates the Soundagardeny type riffs and the vocalist does have a Buckley tone to him. The second song however sounds distinctly like Queens of the Stone Age and by the third song I’m hearing the pixies with vocal harmonies very reminiscent of Alice in Chains. This would be my ideal superband but I don’t stay after this – I’ve got all the CDs at home and I’m tired and hungover.
Thursday, 16 August 2007
The Plimptons, Kunt and the Gang - The 13th Note
(Review courtesy of the lovely Claire Yvette as I didn't really want to review my own band even though we were AWESOME that night. Ahem)
The pairing of local band The Plimptons and London act Kunt and the Gang was either a stroke of genius or the line-up from hell, depending on your point of view, but either way, they definitely complemented each other. First the Plimptons, for whom Halloween doesn’t come round often enough, arrive on stage in an assortment of outfits. The keyboardist indulging in some eye make-up and a flamboyant scarf, the guitarist out-doing him with a dress and long black wig, and in between them what looks like a Victorian street urchin on vocals, which he shares with the other two. Behind them, a drummer and a bassist, who would have to be doing something pretty remarkable to steal any of the limelight, but look happy to be there nonetheless.
The band successfully play through their set of songs about a range of topics including affairs with ex-politicians, underage goth club patrons, and a whole lot of nineties nostalgia, while anarchically falling over, crawling about the floor, and the guitarist even lifting up his dress to reveal that the infamous “naked gig” at the QMU they played a few months ago hadn’t put him off full-frontal nudity. Even the holding up of cartoon sketches to accompany the Britpop-era based Rule Britannia turned into an enjoyable shambles, where the absence of a certain Mr Gilmour to do the job properly was felt. Along with the fact most of audience couldn’t make out the drawings, this is perhaps a sign that the Plimps should upgrade to a projector. Britpop makes another appearance, with the anthemic perhaps-pulp-inspired Impulse Records featuring a mysterious “Deborah“.
Having seen them on many occasion in the past few years, this was definitely the tightest and most enjoyable show so far, and they’re sure to have picked up a few new fans at this gig, including a terrifying middle-aged ever-so-slightly-drunken woman who spent much of the set dancing in front of the stage. Suppose beggars can’t be choosers.
Next on was the headliner, Kunt and the Gang, with his own brand of naughty euro-pop. If innuendo is like a strip-tease, then Kunt could be compared to hardcore bestiality. Most would choose the former, although the latter does have it’s fans. On first listen, the songs are shocking yet amusing, in a guilty sort of way, like toilet humour except much more abrasive. His live act echoes a kids TV programme, with dodgy hair, catchy songs, cheery side-stepping and even a puppet friend, Little Kunt. However, the novelty of songs such as Have A Wank (along with fake cock to simulate said title) and Carol Vorderman (in which he describes in vivid detail the effects his favourite daytime celebrity has on him) seemed to have worn off on me after one listen on myspace.
Due to it being a school night, I had to miss the second half of his set, which I can’t say I was too distraught about. He’s definitely doing something right though, despite me being unaware of exactly what that is. The 13th Note was the busiest I’ve seen it in a long time, the crowd are singing along, and seemed to be loving it.
The pairing of local band The Plimptons and London act Kunt and the Gang was either a stroke of genius or the line-up from hell, depending on your point of view, but either way, they definitely complemented each other. First the Plimptons, for whom Halloween doesn’t come round often enough, arrive on stage in an assortment of outfits. The keyboardist indulging in some eye make-up and a flamboyant scarf, the guitarist out-doing him with a dress and long black wig, and in between them what looks like a Victorian street urchin on vocals, which he shares with the other two. Behind them, a drummer and a bassist, who would have to be doing something pretty remarkable to steal any of the limelight, but look happy to be there nonetheless.
The band successfully play through their set of songs about a range of topics including affairs with ex-politicians, underage goth club patrons, and a whole lot of nineties nostalgia, while anarchically falling over, crawling about the floor, and the guitarist even lifting up his dress to reveal that the infamous “naked gig” at the QMU they played a few months ago hadn’t put him off full-frontal nudity. Even the holding up of cartoon sketches to accompany the Britpop-era based Rule Britannia turned into an enjoyable shambles, where the absence of a certain Mr Gilmour to do the job properly was felt. Along with the fact most of audience couldn’t make out the drawings, this is perhaps a sign that the Plimps should upgrade to a projector. Britpop makes another appearance, with the anthemic perhaps-pulp-inspired Impulse Records featuring a mysterious “Deborah“.
Having seen them on many occasion in the past few years, this was definitely the tightest and most enjoyable show so far, and they’re sure to have picked up a few new fans at this gig, including a terrifying middle-aged ever-so-slightly-drunken woman who spent much of the set dancing in front of the stage. Suppose beggars can’t be choosers.
Next on was the headliner, Kunt and the Gang, with his own brand of naughty euro-pop. If innuendo is like a strip-tease, then Kunt could be compared to hardcore bestiality. Most would choose the former, although the latter does have it’s fans. On first listen, the songs are shocking yet amusing, in a guilty sort of way, like toilet humour except much more abrasive. His live act echoes a kids TV programme, with dodgy hair, catchy songs, cheery side-stepping and even a puppet friend, Little Kunt. However, the novelty of songs such as Have A Wank (along with fake cock to simulate said title) and Carol Vorderman (in which he describes in vivid detail the effects his favourite daytime celebrity has on him) seemed to have worn off on me after one listen on myspace.
Due to it being a school night, I had to miss the second half of his set, which I can’t say I was too distraught about. He’s definitely doing something right though, despite me being unaware of exactly what that is. The 13th Note was the busiest I’ve seen it in a long time, the crowd are singing along, and seemed to be loving it.
Friday, 10 August 2007
The Deep Fried Wolfkuckles, The Bucky Rage, The Fnords - 13th Note
New carpet in the 13th Note, two new carpets if you count the wee entrance bit. Truly these are glorious times.
Mmmh, springy.
Hi, my name's Chris, I write many of the reviews on this site and I also play in one of the bands on tonight, The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles. Of course right now, when I'm typing this paragraph, its before the gig, some time around noon, I'm in the 'Note supping a beer, awaiting on a friend to come through for lunch. Not sure if the wi-fi thing here is on or my laptop (stolen from mother) is just playing up.
Its a funny old life, on the way in I had to stop at a joke shop to buy Zorro masks for the show, and I see that Darren Hayman's playing Sleazy's tomorrow, time to make up for sins of the past again and go along, right a proper review, try to bluster explanation as to what I meant in the other week's review.
We're on first so we soundcheck last, I get the call from Alan Wolfknuckle at 7pm, “Where are you?” on my way, so at 8pm I'm sat in the Note, guitar all tuned up, wondering where the rest of the band are. Luigi Wolfknuckle is in with his missus, Adam Plimptons in for moral support and sharing my nervousness. Somehow Alan and Dave have sneaked in the side entrace and are waiting downstairs wondering where everyone else is.
So it was one of the best soundchecks ever, we were blessed to have Uncle Brendan doing the sound, but he was off nattering so we rattled through a few of the new songs. I'm not sure who's amp I was using. But it sounded great, I didn't have to tweak anything.
Time passes, the café fills up, friends and acquaintances arrive, Brendan hollers that downstairs is open, people slowly drift down.
For weeks I've been pummelling Alan to spam places on the internet that I can't quite reach with flyers about the gig, after our last gig's turn out of five people (including bar staff) we didn't want to make the same mistake. Alas, off of the internet in attendance we have Robbie and a couple of Claires. A bit of a poor showing from other friends I'd hoped would come along although kind of reassuring, I know my place in the world..
The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles, already wearing their black shirts, don their Zorro masks and hit the stage. Its a ten song set this time, all our best ones and our favourite contemporary covers. The old rockabilly standards of “Outta Control, “99th Floor” and “Led to Believe” we rattled through at a hella pace. I think the newer, left field, covers of Saint Etienne's “You're in a bad way”, relic from MacSorley's Magnetic Fields' “100,000 Fireflies” and John Shuttleworth's “You're Like Manchester, You've got Strangeways” were particular eye openers for the crowd.
The Manchester song and Bad Way with it's “Lose yourself in London” were for me, and my departure from Glasgow. I understand some people in the crowd got quite emotional. I'd planned to get all emotional, but my mask had slipped and I was struggling to see, playing blind.
I missed the first chord of the my first chorus, and burst my finger open three songs from the end (Robbie - “I preferred your earlier gig injuries”). Dave dropped a drumstick during a solo four songs in. Alan gave up playing his bass halfway through cos he was knackered, so we ll kind of relied on Luigi as the bass-stomping backbone of the band.
The Bucky Rage were on next. Gillian (owner of Amydog) had to be excused as she has a phobia of masks. I'd make some comparison with the Village People, but well the was just one cowboy, on bass, a chap in a Mexican wrestler mask on rhythm guitar, the guy on drums wore a stocking with holes cut in it, and looked a little like a singing worm, and I couldn't see the chap on lead guitar.
They were louder and shoutier than the Wolfknuckles, more hardcore rockabilly, with a couple of Sonics covers. The drummer managed to split his cymbol at some point, which I was mighty impressed with.
Headlining for the night were The Fnords, two girls and a bloke on drums. In the film of the same name, he'd be played by Bill Nighy, one of the girls by Gwenneth Paltrow and I'm no sure who we had pencilled in for the other girl, Kim Deal perhaps.
Kind of spooky surf guitar, with neat 60's girl garage vocals, a set up from my usual reference point of Go Gos vocals.
Natalie, Gillian and Rosalind were engaged in swinging their pants and dancing with strangers, Robbie was nodding and mouthing along.
Particularly impressed with one of the songs called “I like to die”, I dunno, it just resonated in a neat rock n roll kinda way. I really loved the solos, I wish mine sounded like that, and the yelps from the bass girl, the Wolfknuckles could do with that sort of thing.
Was that the last ever Wolfknuckles gig? Does the fact that their least talented member lives four hundred miles away from the rest of the band mean that they are no more? I don't know about that. But it was great while it lasted I know, cos I was there.
Photies
Here
Video
Mmmh, springy.
Hi, my name's Chris, I write many of the reviews on this site and I also play in one of the bands on tonight, The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles. Of course right now, when I'm typing this paragraph, its before the gig, some time around noon, I'm in the 'Note supping a beer, awaiting on a friend to come through for lunch. Not sure if the wi-fi thing here is on or my laptop (stolen from mother) is just playing up.
Its a funny old life, on the way in I had to stop at a joke shop to buy Zorro masks for the show, and I see that Darren Hayman's playing Sleazy's tomorrow, time to make up for sins of the past again and go along, right a proper review, try to bluster explanation as to what I meant in the other week's review.
We're on first so we soundcheck last, I get the call from Alan Wolfknuckle at 7pm, “Where are you?” on my way, so at 8pm I'm sat in the Note, guitar all tuned up, wondering where the rest of the band are. Luigi Wolfknuckle is in with his missus, Adam Plimptons in for moral support and sharing my nervousness. Somehow Alan and Dave have sneaked in the side entrace and are waiting downstairs wondering where everyone else is.
So it was one of the best soundchecks ever, we were blessed to have Uncle Brendan doing the sound, but he was off nattering so we rattled through a few of the new songs. I'm not sure who's amp I was using. But it sounded great, I didn't have to tweak anything.
Time passes, the café fills up, friends and acquaintances arrive, Brendan hollers that downstairs is open, people slowly drift down.
For weeks I've been pummelling Alan to spam places on the internet that I can't quite reach with flyers about the gig, after our last gig's turn out of five people (including bar staff) we didn't want to make the same mistake. Alas, off of the internet in attendance we have Robbie and a couple of Claires. A bit of a poor showing from other friends I'd hoped would come along although kind of reassuring, I know my place in the world..
The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles, already wearing their black shirts, don their Zorro masks and hit the stage. Its a ten song set this time, all our best ones and our favourite contemporary covers. The old rockabilly standards of “Outta Control, “99th Floor” and “Led to Believe” we rattled through at a hella pace. I think the newer, left field, covers of Saint Etienne's “You're in a bad way”, relic from MacSorley's Magnetic Fields' “100,000 Fireflies” and John Shuttleworth's “You're Like Manchester, You've got Strangeways” were particular eye openers for the crowd.
The Manchester song and Bad Way with it's “Lose yourself in London” were for me, and my departure from Glasgow. I understand some people in the crowd got quite emotional. I'd planned to get all emotional, but my mask had slipped and I was struggling to see, playing blind.
I missed the first chord of the my first chorus, and burst my finger open three songs from the end (Robbie - “I preferred your earlier gig injuries”). Dave dropped a drumstick during a solo four songs in. Alan gave up playing his bass halfway through cos he was knackered, so we ll kind of relied on Luigi as the bass-stomping backbone of the band.
The Bucky Rage were on next. Gillian (owner of Amydog) had to be excused as she has a phobia of masks. I'd make some comparison with the Village People, but well the was just one cowboy, on bass, a chap in a Mexican wrestler mask on rhythm guitar, the guy on drums wore a stocking with holes cut in it, and looked a little like a singing worm, and I couldn't see the chap on lead guitar.
They were louder and shoutier than the Wolfknuckles, more hardcore rockabilly, with a couple of Sonics covers. The drummer managed to split his cymbol at some point, which I was mighty impressed with.
Headlining for the night were The Fnords, two girls and a bloke on drums. In the film of the same name, he'd be played by Bill Nighy, one of the girls by Gwenneth Paltrow and I'm no sure who we had pencilled in for the other girl, Kim Deal perhaps.
Kind of spooky surf guitar, with neat 60's girl garage vocals, a set up from my usual reference point of Go Gos vocals.
Natalie, Gillian and Rosalind were engaged in swinging their pants and dancing with strangers, Robbie was nodding and mouthing along.
Particularly impressed with one of the songs called “I like to die”, I dunno, it just resonated in a neat rock n roll kinda way. I really loved the solos, I wish mine sounded like that, and the yelps from the bass girl, the Wolfknuckles could do with that sort of thing.
Was that the last ever Wolfknuckles gig? Does the fact that their least talented member lives four hundred miles away from the rest of the band mean that they are no more? I don't know about that. But it was great while it lasted I know, cos I was there.
Photies
Here
Video
Monday, 30 July 2007
Kazoo Funk Orchestra, The HooKares @ 13th Note, 29th July
Kazoo Funk Orchestra have been on my musical radar for a wee while now, but I honestly have no idea how or why. I thought it must've been one of those spam-a-lot MySpace friend requests, but since they're not my friends (not yet anyway) this seems unlikely. Hmm. Regardless of how I know of them, I do, and have been looking forward to this gig for quite some time as I knew it would be something out of the ordinary.
I was not to be disappointed! Unless you count the crushing dreariness of the first band, that is...they were truly as bad as the name suggests, if indeed you can imagine a band being that bad. Initial signs were quite promising, they came on after side one of Clear Spot by Cap-B and the presence of an electric violin promised at least a smidgin of experimentation to their sound. Alas, this was not to be. Wah-wah violin solo aside, I lost some skin cells watching this band that I'm never going to get back again, and this angers me. So much for Oil of Olay, it cannot reverse the aging caused by having to listen to bad music for half an hour.
The tiny downstairs bar got rather full and extremely hot in time for the arrival of KFO, and thankfully these guys saved the day with their engaging mix of danceable tunes, lyrical smut and stage buffoonery. First song of the night was about muff diving, but as the cute little hairy frontman jumped about waving his arms and brandishing a stethoscope, even Mary Whitehouse would have forgotten any offense caused to get down and dirty down the front. The band had at least 8 and possibly as many as 11 members, some of which (but not all) played the eponymous kazoo. This was less of a gimmick than a neccessity though, as the playful and energetic nature of these tunes was best expressed via a small plastic toy which requires no musical expertise to play.
As the tunes carried on (they played for almost an hour!) it became apparent that this was a partisan crowd; in fact, the only criticism I would have of the night was that the 5 of us felt like we'd gatecrashed a private party as we seemed to be the only people there not personally acquainted with the band. About halfway through 4 bin bags full of balloons were unleashed upon the sweaty throng, providing a floaty compliment to the penis-shaped balloons tethered to the microphone stands from the beginning. The atmosphere was pretty amazing, don't think I've ever seen so many happy smiling people in this venue before with people ignoring the perils of the 6ft high ceiling to mosh away with gay abandon.
The band's sound could be best described as a poppier, happier Beta Band, ut why rely on me when you can download 38 of their tunes from their website? Better still, why not buy an album - I got both of them for a fiver, the best deal since Chris Langham sold me a cheap computer 4 months ago...some folk will never learn.
I was not to be disappointed! Unless you count the crushing dreariness of the first band, that is...they were truly as bad as the name suggests, if indeed you can imagine a band being that bad. Initial signs were quite promising, they came on after side one of Clear Spot by Cap-B and the presence of an electric violin promised at least a smidgin of experimentation to their sound. Alas, this was not to be. Wah-wah violin solo aside, I lost some skin cells watching this band that I'm never going to get back again, and this angers me. So much for Oil of Olay, it cannot reverse the aging caused by having to listen to bad music for half an hour.
The tiny downstairs bar got rather full and extremely hot in time for the arrival of KFO, and thankfully these guys saved the day with their engaging mix of danceable tunes, lyrical smut and stage buffoonery. First song of the night was about muff diving, but as the cute little hairy frontman jumped about waving his arms and brandishing a stethoscope, even Mary Whitehouse would have forgotten any offense caused to get down and dirty down the front. The band had at least 8 and possibly as many as 11 members, some of which (but not all) played the eponymous kazoo. This was less of a gimmick than a neccessity though, as the playful and energetic nature of these tunes was best expressed via a small plastic toy which requires no musical expertise to play.
As the tunes carried on (they played for almost an hour!) it became apparent that this was a partisan crowd; in fact, the only criticism I would have of the night was that the 5 of us felt like we'd gatecrashed a private party as we seemed to be the only people there not personally acquainted with the band. About halfway through 4 bin bags full of balloons were unleashed upon the sweaty throng, providing a floaty compliment to the penis-shaped balloons tethered to the microphone stands from the beginning. The atmosphere was pretty amazing, don't think I've ever seen so many happy smiling people in this venue before with people ignoring the perils of the 6ft high ceiling to mosh away with gay abandon.
The band's sound could be best described as a poppier, happier Beta Band, ut why rely on me when you can download 38 of their tunes from their website? Better still, why not buy an album - I got both of them for a fiver, the best deal since Chris Langham sold me a cheap computer 4 months ago...some folk will never learn.
Friday, 27 July 2007
Tom Snowball, George Thomas, Ceylan, Liz Green, - 13th Note
I wasn't sure where tonight's gig was so I tried Sleazys first, found Commander Keen on the door, not the gig I was after so I bade him farewell, fond regards and headed off. He'd said that he thought Take A Worm For A Walk Week were playing the Note but I wasn't so sure.
Arrived at the Note as dusk fell, Wee Patrick was outside talking to some sexy kids and I hurried inside.
Tom Snowball on the door, looking as youthful and fresh faced as always. I remember him being the bard of the Tchai Ovna many years ago with a beard, I remember him playing Last Night From Glasgow, and now a promoter at the Note.
Ceylan's on stage, providing backing vocals to some other guitar on guitar, playing the final song of their set. Christina says "she was great" and Ceyaln herself swears it was her best show ever.
I bought a drink and bade hello to friends and ladies.
Next up on stage is a painfully nervous singing girl, Liz Green. After starting with an accappella song she picks up a guitar and goes full on two string Billie Holliday.
Faint echos of Lily Allen in her retroness and hamming of decades old genres. "She sounds a bit like a cross between Billie Holiday and a muppet. I don't know if that's a good or a bad things - Christina. Katesby picked up on the Billie Holliday thing too. I wonder if this is actually what Billie Holliday sounds like.
"I was playing that on the wrong fret, so it was lower than I expected, luckily I have a voice like a man"
Big Jim is here, and Katesby off of the internet, some of The Drive Carefully folk, and uncle Brendan chin stroking by the mixing desk at the back.
"Actually I take it back, she's pretty good. Peculiar voice though" - Christina again.
George Thomas and The Owls, starting off in the troubador style with a thin acoustic cover of "I'm so Excited", his vox ain't so good on it. Uncle Brendan's stood right behind me, so I feel I should mention the buzzines from one of the speakers, doesn't sound power related, some kind of ground loop or interference.
George Thomas is playing really gentle music, dry half mumbled lyrics, so slight you can almost see straight through them.
Arrived at the Note as dusk fell, Wee Patrick was outside talking to some sexy kids and I hurried inside.
Tom Snowball on the door, looking as youthful and fresh faced as always. I remember him being the bard of the Tchai Ovna many years ago with a beard, I remember him playing Last Night From Glasgow, and now a promoter at the Note.
Ceylan's on stage, providing backing vocals to some other guitar on guitar, playing the final song of their set. Christina says "she was great" and Ceyaln herself swears it was her best show ever.
I bought a drink and bade hello to friends and ladies.
Next up on stage is a painfully nervous singing girl, Liz Green. After starting with an accappella song she picks up a guitar and goes full on two string Billie Holliday.
Faint echos of Lily Allen in her retroness and hamming of decades old genres. "She sounds a bit like a cross between Billie Holiday and a muppet. I don't know if that's a good or a bad things - Christina. Katesby picked up on the Billie Holliday thing too. I wonder if this is actually what Billie Holliday sounds like.
"I was playing that on the wrong fret, so it was lower than I expected, luckily I have a voice like a man"
Big Jim is here, and Katesby off of the internet, some of The Drive Carefully folk, and uncle Brendan chin stroking by the mixing desk at the back.
"Actually I take it back, she's pretty good. Peculiar voice though" - Christina again.
George Thomas and The Owls, starting off in the troubador style with a thin acoustic cover of "I'm so Excited", his vox ain't so good on it. Uncle Brendan's stood right behind me, so I feel I should mention the buzzines from one of the speakers, doesn't sound power related, some kind of ground loop or interference.
George Thomas is playing really gentle music, dry half mumbled lyrics, so slight you can almost see straight through them.
Sunday, 17 June 2007
Redword, Ex-Wives, Pappygold - 13th Note
Stumbled into the 'Note around 10pm, after having Bob moan at me for hours in Coopers on the other side of town. "I was there, I know it was okay".
So here, on stage, the band are really loud...
"If yer writing a review, I want in it," says Clair, somewhat threateningly. Sure, here's her myspace profile, website and Livejournal, I hope she reciprocates with links to this site. Seconds later I'm being jumped on by one of the Drive Carefully Records promotery people, muttering something about me writing a bad review.
Ah, fuck this shit.
Adam Plimp has his fingers in his ears as he tries to sell copies of Kharki Shorts, its the final issue of the legendary Glasgow underground comic. And he appears to be drawing the gig. What us this? Some new fashion? All the cool kids doing it now, writing reviews not good enough? Well, I hope some of the pictures end up online, bigger audience and all that.
So, the band, I'm not sure who they are, but they're pretty good. Overwealmingly loud; guitar, bass, drums and barked vocals, a neat tapestry of sounds mixes from the hard rock/metal pallet. Bass player with fluffy angel wings. A poor man's answer to the mighty Dananananaykroyd?
Kind of jarring compared with what Drive Carefully usually have on, whoever booked them seems to be showing contempt for the regulars. It could have been some crazy attempt to keep the punters on their toes, or get a new crowd in. Looks like the band brought a load of their friends along, so its paid off.
Its a kind of deep grinding music, with some bounce to it. Some of the lyrics sounds like Adam's ad libs, "My girlfriend left me for a horse..."
Ooh, free CDs.
Apparently they were the Ex-Wives, but I didn't recognise any of them (pun).
Gill and Stoo play some MP3s, I go for a wander. And vaguely get introduced to someone off of the internet in real life!! For a few brief seconds it was like "Hey!!" "Hey!!" and it was kind of cool, we read each other's blogs from time to time. But alas, thats about as far as it needs to go.
Next on stage is some laptop gentleman, laptop and keyboard, possibly called Pappygold, and for the first songs possibly playing MP3s and a game of Solitair, or judging by the mousepad action, it could be FreeCell.
For the third song, a microphone is involved, could be glitch-pop, fast drums and cathedral sounds.
Ceylan say "Yeah, I like it," hmm, double enthusiasm there. She adds "He's interesting and far more enjoyable than the rest" a similar opinion to Adam and Steff, who earlier thought that the first act were better than the second. I almost wish I hadn't missed the first act, Redword, prog laptop stuff apparently. But alas, if I hadn't been in Coopers I'd have been at the Laurison.
So, this girl just tried to get in on the guestlist. I'd taken a seat at the door, next to the money tin and Ceylan with the stamp. She came in, looked awkward and smiled with these dimpley cheeks and stripey top under a baggy glittery jumper, cute nose and smiled again. Ceylan stared back. I think the stand off lasted about twelve minutes of unblinking before the interloper broke off and asked promoter Billy to let her in.
Photies
here
So here, on stage, the band are really loud...
"If yer writing a review, I want in it," says Clair, somewhat threateningly. Sure, here's her myspace profile, website and Livejournal, I hope she reciprocates with links to this site. Seconds later I'm being jumped on by one of the Drive Carefully Records promotery people, muttering something about me writing a bad review.
Ah, fuck this shit.
Adam Plimp has his fingers in his ears as he tries to sell copies of Kharki Shorts, its the final issue of the legendary Glasgow underground comic. And he appears to be drawing the gig. What us this? Some new fashion? All the cool kids doing it now, writing reviews not good enough? Well, I hope some of the pictures end up online, bigger audience and all that.
So, the band, I'm not sure who they are, but they're pretty good. Overwealmingly loud; guitar, bass, drums and barked vocals, a neat tapestry of sounds mixes from the hard rock/metal pallet. Bass player with fluffy angel wings. A poor man's answer to the mighty Dananananaykroyd?
Kind of jarring compared with what Drive Carefully usually have on, whoever booked them seems to be showing contempt for the regulars. It could have been some crazy attempt to keep the punters on their toes, or get a new crowd in. Looks like the band brought a load of their friends along, so its paid off.
Its a kind of deep grinding music, with some bounce to it. Some of the lyrics sounds like Adam's ad libs, "My girlfriend left me for a horse..."
Ooh, free CDs.
Apparently they were the Ex-Wives, but I didn't recognise any of them (pun).
Gill and Stoo play some MP3s, I go for a wander. And vaguely get introduced to someone off of the internet in real life!! For a few brief seconds it was like "Hey!!" "Hey!!" and it was kind of cool, we read each other's blogs from time to time. But alas, thats about as far as it needs to go.
Next on stage is some laptop gentleman, laptop and keyboard, possibly called Pappygold, and for the first songs possibly playing MP3s and a game of Solitair, or judging by the mousepad action, it could be FreeCell.
For the third song, a microphone is involved, could be glitch-pop, fast drums and cathedral sounds.
Ceylan say "Yeah, I like it," hmm, double enthusiasm there. She adds "He's interesting and far more enjoyable than the rest" a similar opinion to Adam and Steff, who earlier thought that the first act were better than the second. I almost wish I hadn't missed the first act, Redword, prog laptop stuff apparently. But alas, if I hadn't been in Coopers I'd have been at the Laurison.
So, this girl just tried to get in on the guestlist. I'd taken a seat at the door, next to the money tin and Ceylan with the stamp. She came in, looked awkward and smiled with these dimpley cheeks and stripey top under a baggy glittery jumper, cute nose and smiled again. Ceylan stared back. I think the stand off lasted about twelve minutes of unblinking before the interloper broke off and asked promoter Billy to let her in.
Right, next gig on the Last Night From Glasgow Indie Eyespy callendar is The Parsonage playing in Kelvingrove Park at 3pm today.
I love the Parsonage, never seen them play live though, they're a thirty strong choir who do covers of contemporary hits by artists such as Johnny Cash and Funboy Three, and by a startling coincidence, I went to school with one of them, worked with another of them, happen to be sitting next to another and wrote a review of yet another only two days ago. I had you hooked with the promise Johnny Cash covers.
I love the Parsonage, never seen them play live though, they're a thirty strong choir who do covers of contemporary hits by artists such as Johnny Cash and Funboy Three, and by a startling coincidence, I went to school with one of them, worked with another of them, happen to be sitting next to another and wrote a review of yet another only two days ago. I had you hooked with the promise Johnny Cash covers.
Photies
here
Friday, 18 May 2007
Commander Keen, Dumb Instrument and Mouse Eat Mouse @ The 13th Note, Is This Music? Night
Commander Keen, eh? 4 syllables and a smattering of alliteration. Afraid that's all I can tell you about them though, as I stayed upstairs attempting to formulate a plan for world domination during their set. Sorry!
Really glad I made it down in time to see Dumb Instrument, as they were AMAZING. A stripped-down trio with piano and no drums would not normally be my cup of chai. These guys did not attempt the boring balladry initial impressions might have suggested, instead making an interesting bass-driven jazz noise with some truly beautiful singing from their hirsute frontman. This on its own would have been pretty unusual within the confines of the 13th Note, but their lyrics were absolutely stunning too. Like a more playful and poetic Aidan Moffat, Tom Murray's words seemed to be describing the most tortured depths of his own soul, I noticed him wiping tears away at the end of a few songs. They were given added poignance by the casual sprinkling of Glasgow vernacular to describe the tragedy of roadside flower tributes or the demise of friends...indeed, their album on Hackpen Records is entitled 'Songs Ya Bass', which is neddy shorthand for 'Songs for Illegitimate Children' in case you didn't know.
So aye, Dumb Instrument. Check them out, I'll definitely go and see them next time they come to Glasgow.
That was the surprise of the night; the genius that is Mouse Eat Mouse was already well known in the Smith household, their debut album 'Mair Licht' having been on constant rotation since its release a few months back. For the uninitiated, MEM are that rare thing - a truly original band who make terrific music. I have tried to describe them to folk before and it's pretty difficult. The best thing to do is just go and see them next time they play, I promise you wil not regret it.
As the band take to the stage you can tell right away that they are going to do something a bit different. The lank-haired drummer with specs pushed down to the end of his nose, a flowery Frances de la Tour lookalike on cello, a dapper cravat-wearing saxophonist, the manic hoarse man of the Apocalypse C D shade fronting the outfit, a shy-looking guitarist (when did you last see one of those?) and lynchpin Johnny Mouse on bass stage-right.
MEM overcome the sound problems that dog their first 2 songs to play an absolute stormer. C D's lyrics are auld Scots poetry, tackling fairly Socialist themes with a wry sense of humour which allays any accusations of pompousness. His delivery is awesome, and the band pound away with an energy I have not heard from them before. The new material sounded great too, and I can't wait for their next release. The first time i ever saw Mouse Eat Mouse play was back in 1997 - it is criminal that a band this good are still languishing in relative obscurity while dross like The Fratellis gets so much success. 'Hush Nou' is worth a million la-la-la choruses.
But then who ever said that life was meant to be fair?
As we stumble outside into the rain, I am still buzzing. Both of us feel that we were witness to something special last night. It's nights like these that make living in Glasgow worthwhile. The music is out there - all you have to do it look for it.
Other reviews
here
Really glad I made it down in time to see Dumb Instrument, as they were AMAZING. A stripped-down trio with piano and no drums would not normally be my cup of chai. These guys did not attempt the boring balladry initial impressions might have suggested, instead making an interesting bass-driven jazz noise with some truly beautiful singing from their hirsute frontman. This on its own would have been pretty unusual within the confines of the 13th Note, but their lyrics were absolutely stunning too. Like a more playful and poetic Aidan Moffat, Tom Murray's words seemed to be describing the most tortured depths of his own soul, I noticed him wiping tears away at the end of a few songs. They were given added poignance by the casual sprinkling of Glasgow vernacular to describe the tragedy of roadside flower tributes or the demise of friends...indeed, their album on Hackpen Records is entitled 'Songs Ya Bass', which is neddy shorthand for 'Songs for Illegitimate Children' in case you didn't know.
So aye, Dumb Instrument. Check them out, I'll definitely go and see them next time they come to Glasgow.
That was the surprise of the night; the genius that is Mouse Eat Mouse was already well known in the Smith household, their debut album 'Mair Licht' having been on constant rotation since its release a few months back. For the uninitiated, MEM are that rare thing - a truly original band who make terrific music. I have tried to describe them to folk before and it's pretty difficult. The best thing to do is just go and see them next time they play, I promise you wil not regret it.
As the band take to the stage you can tell right away that they are going to do something a bit different. The lank-haired drummer with specs pushed down to the end of his nose, a flowery Frances de la Tour lookalike on cello, a dapper cravat-wearing saxophonist, the manic hoarse man of the Apocalypse C D shade fronting the outfit, a shy-looking guitarist (when did you last see one of those?) and lynchpin Johnny Mouse on bass stage-right.
MEM overcome the sound problems that dog their first 2 songs to play an absolute stormer. C D's lyrics are auld Scots poetry, tackling fairly Socialist themes with a wry sense of humour which allays any accusations of pompousness. His delivery is awesome, and the band pound away with an energy I have not heard from them before. The new material sounded great too, and I can't wait for their next release. The first time i ever saw Mouse Eat Mouse play was back in 1997 - it is criminal that a band this good are still languishing in relative obscurity while dross like The Fratellis gets so much success. 'Hush Nou' is worth a million la-la-la choruses.
But then who ever said that life was meant to be fair?
As we stumble outside into the rain, I am still buzzing. Both of us feel that we were witness to something special last night. It's nights like these that make living in Glasgow worthwhile. The music is out there - all you have to do it look for it.
Other reviews
here
Thursday, 3 May 2007
Vom, Blue Shift, Tetsuo, Naomi Elizabeth - 13th Note
"Pish," says Alan, "Late startin' pish"
Could they no have tuned their instruments before they hit the stage? Could they no have one it half an hour ago instead of sitting upstairs drinking pints?
Vom on stage, Hank Marvin's grop tightens on the handlebars as his meteorite slowly homes in on the building, "Herman Munster must die!"
"Mince" Alan says "non-rhythmical mince, mutton dressed as shite."
I thought iw was great, some overwealming onslaught of noise.
Next is some intense looking girl with a violin. Now I'm not 100% sure what such things are supposed to sound like, but sawing through a bit of wood springs to mind. Some kind of musical instrument abuse I guess.
She really didn't like her music teacher at school, and still has issues.
"I dunno what it is, but its got a good beat" says Alan, "Do you ever feel like you've aged 40 years?" Luckily she was only on for about five minutes.
We'd been talking about DareDevil comics for twenty minutes before I noticed that Paul the sound guys looks like The Green Arrow.
Tetsuo, ah, nothing beats a guy howling into a microphone, rolling on the floor, doubled over with his arse in the air, whilst over on stage the rest of the band, including another violinist, nervously make noise and look bemused.
Kind of like a TMX Elmo.
They sounded "Like a body hammer" - Alan. Better violin that the first lass, mind.
Naomi, from LA, on tour, on her way to Europe. Squelchy bass backing track turned up loud. When her vocals kick in, I gotta say, my first thought was, is she doing this for a bet?
Three songs in and either standards have slipped in LA or something's been lost in translation. Rather smart sparkly gold doily dress.
Clearly Naomi, on stage, can hear things that no one else can. The wee dances she does are cutesy and the ears poking out her pixie hair thing is funny, but the way she says "Yay" when people are politely clapping after songs, and the mini review introductions to each song "This is a different song", and "This one rock out". Grate.
In a parallel universe she could be a poor shadow of a mid-nineties Bjork. Not here tonight in Glasgow.
Could they no have tuned their instruments before they hit the stage? Could they no have one it half an hour ago instead of sitting upstairs drinking pints?
Vom on stage, Hank Marvin's grop tightens on the handlebars as his meteorite slowly homes in on the building, "Herman Munster must die!"
"Mince" Alan says "non-rhythmical mince, mutton dressed as shite."
I thought iw was great, some overwealming onslaught of noise.
Next is some intense looking girl with a violin. Now I'm not 100% sure what such things are supposed to sound like, but sawing through a bit of wood springs to mind. Some kind of musical instrument abuse I guess.
She really didn't like her music teacher at school, and still has issues.
"I dunno what it is, but its got a good beat" says Alan, "Do you ever feel like you've aged 40 years?" Luckily she was only on for about five minutes.
We'd been talking about DareDevil comics for twenty minutes before I noticed that Paul the sound guys looks like The Green Arrow.
Tetsuo, ah, nothing beats a guy howling into a microphone, rolling on the floor, doubled over with his arse in the air, whilst over on stage the rest of the band, including another violinist, nervously make noise and look bemused.
Kind of like a TMX Elmo.
They sounded "Like a body hammer" - Alan. Better violin that the first lass, mind.
Naomi, from LA, on tour, on her way to Europe. Squelchy bass backing track turned up loud. When her vocals kick in, I gotta say, my first thought was, is she doing this for a bet?
Three songs in and either standards have slipped in LA or something's been lost in translation. Rather smart sparkly gold doily dress.
Clearly Naomi, on stage, can hear things that no one else can. The wee dances she does are cutesy and the ears poking out her pixie hair thing is funny, but the way she says "Yay" when people are politely clapping after songs, and the mini review introductions to each song "This is a different song", and "This one rock out". Grate.
In a parallel universe she could be a poor shadow of a mid-nineties Bjork. Not here tonight in Glasgow.
Saturday, 28 April 2007
Telemachus, Nathan Persad, Tom Snowball, Joe Kane, Murnie - 13th Note
Its a dark, cold and foggy night out, and inside its warm, low key and friendly. Uncle Brendan is somewhere at the back fiddling with sound levels, and the cute new barmaid is serving with a smile.
On stage, the first act, playing guitar with an array of effects pedles and drum + bass machine backing is the cartoonist known as Rob Miller, tonight known as Telemachus. He bares a striking resemblance to the comic book character Elexender Brown. This gig looks like one of his strips, achingly honest, like we can see inside his head, looking out his eyes. When he played the Tchai Ovna a few months back I wasn't convinced, but tonight the man is an artist, every nuance, every reverb and guitar jangle, the slow pace and epic tones, carefully crafted, even the slightly too quiet vocals, supposed to be that way. He seems far away, but the music is so loud, and vaguely dischordant.
The set ends unexpectedly, jarring even, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Nathan Persad is if MJ Hibbett discovered boogie, songs about lifestyle changes cos of new girlfriends, dedicated to Maggie Broon, songs co-written with Adam Plimpton.
Do I mention him in every review? Quite possibly, I ought to cut down on that. But not tonight, he's curated and arranged all this and the Littlest Album 3. Why does he do it? Why do I do it? Banging my head against the cell door like I'm Leland Palmer or something. Why can't I stop? What am I expecting from Glasgow Indie Eyespy, Last Night from Glasgow, manc_ill_kid, The Plimptons, Ivan Lendil Music, The Wolfknuckles, Shag Times, One Big Snog, SchaudenFreude, Somewhere in The Sun, any of this? The futile hope that some girl from far away will look up and remember and pick up the phone, all forgiven? Wouldn't it be easier to pick up the phone or ring the doorbell myself, rather than spraying this across the nation, half-hearted wank if anything. Maybe that's why she's so far away, and I'm left here dreaming of things that never were, aren't and never will be. This will never work out, I'll always be feeling my way through a fog of choking emotions and deluded beliefs. I am Francesco Petrarca with a 407 mile long conveyor belt of Lauras. Under the sunshine can't I just tell her the way I feel? or would that shatter everything?
And why's it always dead sheep?
The room's slowly filling up, forty paying customers at the 1 hour point.
Someone near the bar says (about Nathan) "This sounds like Johnathan Richman"
Looking at the expression on Adam's face, its clear how wrong I am about his motives. Sheer, unadulterated glee.
Nathan's enjoying himself, pwning hecklers, he's a natural entertainer, given the opportunity to entertain and spread a little happiness.
Time passes
I doubt anyone could sound warmer or fuzzier than Tom Snowball and if I were a girl about whom he'd written a song, my heart would melt. Elements of Americana on the vocals I guess, on reflection sounds like a stripped down Decemberists, deep resonance from the guitar, audience talking loudly.
Time passes
Once again, its Only Joe Kane, onstage alone with backing mp3s, so its like a whole band. The audience, pre-programmed, holler after each song.
The only act tonight playing with a full band are Murnie, drums, keyboards and guitar. Sounding rather rock tonight, a lilting Dire Straits.
They have an old school music stand for lyrics and sweet noodly keyboards which doesn't quite gel with the harsh guitar.
On stage, the first act, playing guitar with an array of effects pedles and drum + bass machine backing is the cartoonist known as Rob Miller, tonight known as Telemachus. He bares a striking resemblance to the comic book character Elexender Brown. This gig looks like one of his strips, achingly honest, like we can see inside his head, looking out his eyes. When he played the Tchai Ovna a few months back I wasn't convinced, but tonight the man is an artist, every nuance, every reverb and guitar jangle, the slow pace and epic tones, carefully crafted, even the slightly too quiet vocals, supposed to be that way. He seems far away, but the music is so loud, and vaguely dischordant.
The set ends unexpectedly, jarring even, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Nathan Persad is if MJ Hibbett discovered boogie, songs about lifestyle changes cos of new girlfriends, dedicated to Maggie Broon, songs co-written with Adam Plimpton.
Do I mention him in every review? Quite possibly, I ought to cut down on that. But not tonight, he's curated and arranged all this and the Littlest Album 3. Why does he do it? Why do I do it? Banging my head against the cell door like I'm Leland Palmer or something. Why can't I stop? What am I expecting from Glasgow Indie Eyespy, Last Night from Glasgow, manc_ill_kid, The Plimptons, Ivan Lendil Music, The Wolfknuckles, Shag Times, One Big Snog, SchaudenFreude, Somewhere in The Sun, any of this? The futile hope that some girl from far away will look up and remember and pick up the phone, all forgiven? Wouldn't it be easier to pick up the phone or ring the doorbell myself, rather than spraying this across the nation, half-hearted wank if anything. Maybe that's why she's so far away, and I'm left here dreaming of things that never were, aren't and never will be. This will never work out, I'll always be feeling my way through a fog of choking emotions and deluded beliefs. I am Francesco Petrarca with a 407 mile long conveyor belt of Lauras. Under the sunshine can't I just tell her the way I feel? or would that shatter everything?
And why's it always dead sheep?
The room's slowly filling up, forty paying customers at the 1 hour point.
Someone near the bar says (about Nathan) "This sounds like Johnathan Richman"
Looking at the expression on Adam's face, its clear how wrong I am about his motives. Sheer, unadulterated glee.
Nathan's enjoying himself, pwning hecklers, he's a natural entertainer, given the opportunity to entertain and spread a little happiness.
Time passes
I doubt anyone could sound warmer or fuzzier than Tom Snowball and if I were a girl about whom he'd written a song, my heart would melt. Elements of Americana on the vocals I guess, on reflection sounds like a stripped down Decemberists, deep resonance from the guitar, audience talking loudly.
Time passes
Once again, its Only Joe Kane, onstage alone with backing mp3s, so its like a whole band. The audience, pre-programmed, holler after each song.
The only act tonight playing with a full band are Murnie, drums, keyboards and guitar. Sounding rather rock tonight, a lilting Dire Straits.
They have an old school music stand for lyrics and sweet noodly keyboards which doesn't quite gel with the harsh guitar.
Sunday, 22 April 2007
The Just Joans, Babybones, 18 Wheels - Drive Carefully Records - 13th Note
The Just Joans were really good apparently, better than last night. I was trudging my way across town, missing them, arriving in time to catch the second band setting up.
Babybones. Shouty shouty, Joy Joy and discussions about how the shouty girl's hair has changed since last time they played a Drive Carefully night. She'd had it curlier and tied back tightly, now it bares a striking resemblance to a girl I knew in Sweden.
Oop, an ex-flatmate is here, she still owes me about seventy quid from a phonebill from 2001.
18 Wheels, fronted by a gentleman whos a cross between Eddie Izzard and Oliver Reed, lurging around the stage self-assuredly. The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles should aim for him.
Rather fast guitar garage rock with mumbled rambling lyrics. Cool lead guitar, nice use of effects there. The Rhythm guitar, a beat up acoustic with pickups taped on, played round the guy's knees.
Guitarist and bassist leaning back on each other, forming a wee ho down tunnel, that the singer chuckled at and demolished.
"Goodnight Glasgow!"
I wrote off the debt years ago, after about six months of nagging, phonecalls and text messages. Doesn't mean I've forgotten or want to be like all friends with her and owt.
And so it was, tagging along with the Drive Carefully Crew to their traditional aftershow venue, the Barfly, colliding with the mighty Obscura aftershow entourage. Bless.
"Goodnight Glasgow"
Reviews
here
Photies
here
Babybones. Shouty shouty, Joy Joy and discussions about how the shouty girl's hair has changed since last time they played a Drive Carefully night. She'd had it curlier and tied back tightly, now it bares a striking resemblance to a girl I knew in Sweden.
Oop, an ex-flatmate is here, she still owes me about seventy quid from a phonebill from 2001.
18 Wheels, fronted by a gentleman whos a cross between Eddie Izzard and Oliver Reed, lurging around the stage self-assuredly. The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles should aim for him.
Rather fast guitar garage rock with mumbled rambling lyrics. Cool lead guitar, nice use of effects there. The Rhythm guitar, a beat up acoustic with pickups taped on, played round the guy's knees.
Guitarist and bassist leaning back on each other, forming a wee ho down tunnel, that the singer chuckled at and demolished.
"Goodnight Glasgow!"
I wrote off the debt years ago, after about six months of nagging, phonecalls and text messages. Doesn't mean I've forgotten or want to be like all friends with her and owt.
And so it was, tagging along with the Drive Carefully Crew to their traditional aftershow venue, the Barfly, colliding with the mighty Obscura aftershow entourage. Bless.
"Goodnight Glasgow"
Reviews
here
Photies
here
Wednesday, 28 March 2007
Hey Princess, Older and Far Away, Feel like Falling - 13th Note
I'm standing in a pub, stone-cold sober, and watching 3 men who appear to be pushing 30 playing like trio of gawky teenagers who just learned how to play the chords D and G. Their drummer resembles a young(ish) John Peel and the singer is trying too hard not to look like a car salesman by wearing a (homemade?) Richey Manic t-shirt, but it doesn't take away from the fact that this band are totally devoid of ideas. Lyrics addressed to someone who doesn't seem to know how great they are or what they could achieve in life, backed-up by the aforementioned major guitar chords just didn't do it for me, so I retreated upstairs to read about Norn Irn for the latter half of their set. Feel like Falling asleep, more like...sorry guys.
Older and Far Away look like a more interesting prospect from the off, they have a cello for a start, and a lap steel. Last time I saw marie on a stage she was playing guitar for riot grrl band Cheetaras, performing a rocking cover of Madonna's 'Like a Prayer'...this time she's sitting at the drumkit for what appear to be a country band. The music starts, and my suspicions are confirmed, these guys like their Americana. For the majority of the set they manage to make it pretty interesting though. So many of these laid-back country bands are content to go through the motions and play safe, but OAFA blend a bit of Pavementesque trickery with good old-fashioned blues emotion to make a very pleasant racket for the fair-sized crowd in attendance.
Despite their obvious talents as a band, they let themselves down on the togetherness front a bit. A couple of songs require a few false starts before they get going, and there appears to be some tension between band members and the soundman (who I thought coped pretty well in the circumstances). The lead singer/cellist and Marie appear particularly affected by any setbacks, which eventually made me feel a bit uncomfortable watching. As they fluff the beginning of the song 'Peter Parker', cello woman snaps at the rest of the band. Luckily their delightfully goofy-looking guitarist (who bears more than a slight resemblance to the webslinging wonderspider) keeps it all together, acting out the Mark Ibold demeanour to a tee. definitely worth watching again, if only to see if they split up on stage...
After a short break (after all, it is a school night), the band I've dragged my sober ass out to see tonight shuffle onto the stage - I can hardly hear Anji's vocals during the opening number as the continuing sound problems make their life just that little bit harder. Luckily, this band are not for throwing the towel in, and by the second song they have taken control of the stage with a quiet confidence that enables the music to shine though.
Their sound is soft and gentle but with an underlying strengh, a bit like Throwing Muses but with a hint of something else in the mix. It's quite difficult to pin down, but very engaging. Hey Princess are unusual in that they feature 2 sets of married couples in the line-up, and unsurprisingly have a lot more comaraderie emanating from the stage than the other 2 bands. The songs also offer something different, their sound is a throwback to the American college rock sound but incorporating the idiosyncracies of the British indie scene in its early 90's heyday. Think of Kim Deal meeting Talk Talk (in a Morris Minor on PCP, of course) and you're on the right track. This band make an effort to be different lyrically too, with numerous references to large cats and historical figures replacing the usual boy-meets-girl-meets-drugs sixth-form poetry we've come to expect from Scottish bands. Hats off to Supermiffy for managing to look so darned cool while playing a cabasa!
HP certainly left an imprint on my mind that night, their songs are now inked into my very soul. I know I'll get a ribbon for writing that down...
Photies:-
here
Older and Far Away look like a more interesting prospect from the off, they have a cello for a start, and a lap steel. Last time I saw marie on a stage she was playing guitar for riot grrl band Cheetaras, performing a rocking cover of Madonna's 'Like a Prayer'...this time she's sitting at the drumkit for what appear to be a country band. The music starts, and my suspicions are confirmed, these guys like their Americana. For the majority of the set they manage to make it pretty interesting though. So many of these laid-back country bands are content to go through the motions and play safe, but OAFA blend a bit of Pavementesque trickery with good old-fashioned blues emotion to make a very pleasant racket for the fair-sized crowd in attendance.
Despite their obvious talents as a band, they let themselves down on the togetherness front a bit. A couple of songs require a few false starts before they get going, and there appears to be some tension between band members and the soundman (who I thought coped pretty well in the circumstances). The lead singer/cellist and Marie appear particularly affected by any setbacks, which eventually made me feel a bit uncomfortable watching. As they fluff the beginning of the song 'Peter Parker', cello woman snaps at the rest of the band. Luckily their delightfully goofy-looking guitarist (who bears more than a slight resemblance to the webslinging wonderspider) keeps it all together, acting out the Mark Ibold demeanour to a tee. definitely worth watching again, if only to see if they split up on stage...
After a short break (after all, it is a school night), the band I've dragged my sober ass out to see tonight shuffle onto the stage - I can hardly hear Anji's vocals during the opening number as the continuing sound problems make their life just that little bit harder. Luckily, this band are not for throwing the towel in, and by the second song they have taken control of the stage with a quiet confidence that enables the music to shine though.
Their sound is soft and gentle but with an underlying strengh, a bit like Throwing Muses but with a hint of something else in the mix. It's quite difficult to pin down, but very engaging. Hey Princess are unusual in that they feature 2 sets of married couples in the line-up, and unsurprisingly have a lot more comaraderie emanating from the stage than the other 2 bands. The songs also offer something different, their sound is a throwback to the American college rock sound but incorporating the idiosyncracies of the British indie scene in its early 90's heyday. Think of Kim Deal meeting Talk Talk (in a Morris Minor on PCP, of course) and you're on the right track. This band make an effort to be different lyrically too, with numerous references to large cats and historical figures replacing the usual boy-meets-girl-meets-drugs sixth-form poetry we've come to expect from Scottish bands. Hats off to Supermiffy for managing to look so darned cool while playing a cabasa!
HP certainly left an imprint on my mind that night, their songs are now inked into my very soul. I know I'll get a ribbon for writing that down...
Photies:-
here
Monday, 26 March 2007
Mutley, The Kimberly Steak, Murder Burger, The Deep Fried Wolfknuckles - 13th Note
I am the guitarist for the Deep Fried Wolfknuckles and we're headlining tonight. Friends of friends from Larkhall have arranged the gig, I think they could be the first and third bands on. It could be the first time they're put on a gig here, fresh and excited, unjaundiced by the cold reality of 13th Note giggery.
Ooh, straight into hard and fast shouty rocking. As the Germans might say "Your hard rock rhythms and devilish guitar playing sets my soul on fire". I only wish there were more than four paying punters here to appreciate it. Some of the tightest drumming I've seen in a while but these kids are still in their teens, how can it be?
Cos!
They neatly manage to maintain the momentum all through the set and countless blistering guitar solos, but I'm a bit concerned the singer chap's going to do his voice in before long.
The Kimberly Steaks, second band on stage, just the two of them, thanking god that this will be their last ever acoustic set. I wouldn't be so sure, it seems like they're trying so hard to be Green Day's "Time of Your Life" even down to the accents.
The talking bits in songs would be so much better if the audience could actually hear the words. Its hard not to mention it again, but we're down to about three paying punters by this point. Its maybe worth abandoning convention and just having fun jamming rather than putting on the originally planned show.
I wonder what's on at the Carling Academy tonight.
Alan say "It was all right, but not in the Smokey Robinson sense of 'all right'"
Third band, same drummer as the first band. The deepest, fuzziest guitar I've heard for a while, by the name of Murder Burger. Aw, the cutest thing, they have matching t-shirts, black with white skull and crossbones.
Hmm, they sound a little too similar to the first band. More animated maybe, the singer/guitarist writhes with his guitar more than the guy from the first band and somehow manages to hold his plectrum through the fabric of his sleevey sleeve.
I'm not 100% sure what it was, but halfway through the set, after fixing a broken guitar string, the sound went crap. Either the bass or a guitar turned into a long drawn out shapeless boom and onstage they didn't care. The singer's guitar turned into the audio equivalent of tin foil but soon got buried under the boom.
Aw man, bring on the Wolfknuckles.
I'm biased maybe, but we were seemlessly professional, hardly cocked up any songs and rocked out a fat one.
Alas the other bands had fucked off upstairs so we were playing to three people, not including Iain the sound guy and the barmaid who kindly agreed to wear one of our Wolfknuckle masks.
Three people.
Three.
The other bands and their entourage made it back downstairs in time to catch our last song.
Fuck that shit.
Ooh, straight into hard and fast shouty rocking. As the Germans might say "Your hard rock rhythms and devilish guitar playing sets my soul on fire". I only wish there were more than four paying punters here to appreciate it. Some of the tightest drumming I've seen in a while but these kids are still in their teens, how can it be?
Cos!
They neatly manage to maintain the momentum all through the set and countless blistering guitar solos, but I'm a bit concerned the singer chap's going to do his voice in before long.
The Kimberly Steaks, second band on stage, just the two of them, thanking god that this will be their last ever acoustic set. I wouldn't be so sure, it seems like they're trying so hard to be Green Day's "Time of Your Life" even down to the accents.
The talking bits in songs would be so much better if the audience could actually hear the words. Its hard not to mention it again, but we're down to about three paying punters by this point. Its maybe worth abandoning convention and just having fun jamming rather than putting on the originally planned show.
I wonder what's on at the Carling Academy tonight.
Alan say "It was all right, but not in the Smokey Robinson sense of 'all right'"
Third band, same drummer as the first band. The deepest, fuzziest guitar I've heard for a while, by the name of Murder Burger. Aw, the cutest thing, they have matching t-shirts, black with white skull and crossbones.
Hmm, they sound a little too similar to the first band. More animated maybe, the singer/guitarist writhes with his guitar more than the guy from the first band and somehow manages to hold his plectrum through the fabric of his sleevey sleeve.
I'm not 100% sure what it was, but halfway through the set, after fixing a broken guitar string, the sound went crap. Either the bass or a guitar turned into a long drawn out shapeless boom and onstage they didn't care. The singer's guitar turned into the audio equivalent of tin foil but soon got buried under the boom.
Aw man, bring on the Wolfknuckles.
I'm biased maybe, but we were seemlessly professional, hardly cocked up any songs and rocked out a fat one.
Alas the other bands had fucked off upstairs so we were playing to three people, not including Iain the sound guy and the barmaid who kindly agreed to wear one of our Wolfknuckle masks.
Three people.
Three.
The other bands and their entourage made it back downstairs in time to catch our last song.
Fuck that shit.
Sunday, 25 March 2007
Court Lajoie, iamchemist, Rabies Nation, Ladder Coins - 13th Note
Some Canadian girl, Court Lajoie, alone on stage, standing with an acoustic guitar and a box of tricks pedal.
I arrived fifteen minutes into her set, this is what happens when the reviewer tries to be stylishly late. Apologies to the folk at Drive Carefully Records who put on this night.
She was good at singing and playing guitar at the same time, except for on a few songs where the guitar played itself, then she was just very good at singing.
She did a neat cover of Gnarls Barkley's Crazy, carefully recording her own backing loop on stage, and stressing that there was a video of it on YouTube, if you search for her surname.
She had a CD for sale too, but my money was going on drinks. Paul the barman does pour very good pints, turning it into an artful with attention to detail in getting the head just right. Such craftsmanship should be applauded far more often than it does.
Next onstage was iamchemist (all one word and lower case). "He made my ears hurt" said one punter, who then added that she was "terribly sorry." He looked like a twitchy mini-me version of Green Day, what is it with eight year olds at the 13th Note with loads of synthy equipment? He was jolly good, vocoder microphone, backing tracks on a microscopic mp3 player and wee keyboard strung round his neck, doing the kind of ultra distorted cover versions that I haven't heard since Dsico or Adventure Kid. The Arctic Monkeys I bet you look good on the dancefloor and Pulp's Babies, which was odd cos I'd been talking about the Pulp song with a friend earlier in the day.
It was the debut gig for Rabies Nation. A bit too experimental for my tastes, but some of the tracks had a great beat. Its surprising what you can get out of a Tomy My First Tape Recorder and an upturned bar tray.
A highlight of the set was chucking their own brand of choccy biscuits to a hungry audience, not many band have their own brand of biscuity goodness.
It seemed very much like this was the first time the band members had met each other. Or maybe that's what they wanted us to think, and it had taken months of studious practise to appear so self-assured and shambolic.
The ubiquitous Cal was on drums and keyboard, Billy Electroluv on keyboards and drums, Steff from Drive Carefully Records on keboards and percussion and a Kirstin on keyboards and vocals. Now Cal's drumming was amazing, even compared to the other night's Hector's gig and Kirstin has been in many great bands, LipSick springs to mind, but Rabies Nation just didn't do it for me.
On the other hand, Ladder Coins, the evening's headliners, did. They were mind-blowing. Instrumental shoegazery guitar geniuses, with a girl on drums. Reminded me of Kaleidoscope-era Boo Radleys, but without the pussy vocals.
So there was this irrepressible onslaught of noise, strangely melodic and warm and fuzzy too. Brendan soundguy running to and fro tweaking the mixing desk to raise the sound to higher levels of perfection.
I found myself talking to a gentleman called Cameron, who was in a band who's name I missed, who similarly enjoyed the Ladder Coins, but was concerned that as an instrument act there was only so far they could go in terms of success. Nonsense, look at Mogwai. I don't think there's a Glaswegian who doesn't own at least one of their albums.
Other reviews:-
here
I arrived fifteen minutes into her set, this is what happens when the reviewer tries to be stylishly late. Apologies to the folk at Drive Carefully Records who put on this night.
She was good at singing and playing guitar at the same time, except for on a few songs where the guitar played itself, then she was just very good at singing.
She did a neat cover of Gnarls Barkley's Crazy, carefully recording her own backing loop on stage, and stressing that there was a video of it on YouTube, if you search for her surname.
She had a CD for sale too, but my money was going on drinks. Paul the barman does pour very good pints, turning it into an artful with attention to detail in getting the head just right. Such craftsmanship should be applauded far more often than it does.
Next onstage was iamchemist (all one word and lower case). "He made my ears hurt" said one punter, who then added that she was "terribly sorry." He looked like a twitchy mini-me version of Green Day, what is it with eight year olds at the 13th Note with loads of synthy equipment? He was jolly good, vocoder microphone, backing tracks on a microscopic mp3 player and wee keyboard strung round his neck, doing the kind of ultra distorted cover versions that I haven't heard since Dsico or Adventure Kid. The Arctic Monkeys I bet you look good on the dancefloor and Pulp's Babies, which was odd cos I'd been talking about the Pulp song with a friend earlier in the day.
It was the debut gig for Rabies Nation. A bit too experimental for my tastes, but some of the tracks had a great beat. Its surprising what you can get out of a Tomy My First Tape Recorder and an upturned bar tray.
A highlight of the set was chucking their own brand of choccy biscuits to a hungry audience, not many band have their own brand of biscuity goodness.
It seemed very much like this was the first time the band members had met each other. Or maybe that's what they wanted us to think, and it had taken months of studious practise to appear so self-assured and shambolic.
The ubiquitous Cal was on drums and keyboard, Billy Electroluv on keyboards and drums, Steff from Drive Carefully Records on keboards and percussion and a Kirstin on keyboards and vocals. Now Cal's drumming was amazing, even compared to the other night's Hector's gig and Kirstin has been in many great bands, LipSick springs to mind, but Rabies Nation just didn't do it for me.
On the other hand, Ladder Coins, the evening's headliners, did. They were mind-blowing. Instrumental shoegazery guitar geniuses, with a girl on drums. Reminded me of Kaleidoscope-era Boo Radleys, but without the pussy vocals.
So there was this irrepressible onslaught of noise, strangely melodic and warm and fuzzy too. Brendan soundguy running to and fro tweaking the mixing desk to raise the sound to higher levels of perfection.
I found myself talking to a gentleman called Cameron, who was in a band who's name I missed, who similarly enjoyed the Ladder Coins, but was concerned that as an instrument act there was only so far they could go in terms of success. Nonsense, look at Mogwai. I don't think there's a Glaswegian who doesn't own at least one of their albums.
Other reviews:-
here
Sunday, 11 March 2007
USA is a Monster, Germlin, Household - 13th Note
Ah, a door money dude who appreciates exact change. Often overlooked, sometimes this can be vital. In the past gigs have been cancelled due to lack of change, but not tonight.
Stew from Beard is here, maybe this show will get two reviews.
Odd piercings and facial hair in the crowd tonight, but they all seem rather healthy.
Household are on first, a four-piece with a girl drummer, does that technically make them a three-piece? The first song launches into scratchy vocals and guitar which some might describe as 'blistering'. They do pour a lot of treacly vitriol into their songs. 'Raw' would be another word to use when writing a review.
Although harse sounding, there are wee melodic bits, even reggae breaks. I guess this is what it would feel like to be a Toblerone.
A girl walks in who bares a striking resemblance to Magic Tea off of the internet and there are at least three people here who look like my cousin.
Aw man, Household have so much paraphernalia, its taking a whole team of roadies to clear the stage for Germlin who will be a solo performer, man and laptop as one.
Germlin is an eight year old boy with a keyboard and Apple linked together so they make a noise like 'MOWM' or just noise. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music that he has to do toddler gymnastics, somersaults and worms.
It the way he's crouched on the floor with everyone crowded round except the chap who's dancing crazily, its very disarming. If it were anyone else the audience would have fled, scared.
Guitarist from USA is a Monster looks like a Klingon. The first couple of tunes, less tunes, but had a good beat. The crowd dancing looked like grouchin'.
Ooh, Anastasia's here and Andy too. I think they've seen the band before.
Nifty guitar work, but the vocals are lost on me. Its all driving, pounding and gnawing, it gets in your head like a tent peg.
OMG!!! There's a girl standing at the other side of the room with her fingers in her ears. I'm leaving in disgust.
Stew from Beard is here, maybe this show will get two reviews.
Odd piercings and facial hair in the crowd tonight, but they all seem rather healthy.
Household are on first, a four-piece with a girl drummer, does that technically make them a three-piece? The first song launches into scratchy vocals and guitar which some might describe as 'blistering'. They do pour a lot of treacly vitriol into their songs. 'Raw' would be another word to use when writing a review.
Although harse sounding, there are wee melodic bits, even reggae breaks. I guess this is what it would feel like to be a Toblerone.
A girl walks in who bares a striking resemblance to Magic Tea off of the internet and there are at least three people here who look like my cousin.
Aw man, Household have so much paraphernalia, its taking a whole team of roadies to clear the stage for Germlin who will be a solo performer, man and laptop as one.
Germlin is an eight year old boy with a keyboard and Apple linked together so they make a noise like 'MOWM' or just noise. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music that he has to do toddler gymnastics, somersaults and worms.
It the way he's crouched on the floor with everyone crowded round except the chap who's dancing crazily, its very disarming. If it were anyone else the audience would have fled, scared.
Guitarist from USA is a Monster looks like a Klingon. The first couple of tunes, less tunes, but had a good beat. The crowd dancing looked like grouchin'.
Ooh, Anastasia's here and Andy too. I think they've seen the band before.
Nifty guitar work, but the vocals are lost on me. Its all driving, pounding and gnawing, it gets in your head like a tent peg.
OMG!!! There's a girl standing at the other side of the room with her fingers in her ears. I'm leaving in disgust.
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