Foxface, Skeleton Bob, Kevin Campbell - Mono

Drunk at the Pulpit, I kind of missed going to the last one, and took great pleasure of reviewing it anyway, is some kind of bands and record playing night, bringing together folk with music they wouldn't usually find, with esquisitly twee flyers.

First on stage is Kevin Campbell. Delicate finger picking, more like a recital than a set from the slide guitar player in Older and Faraway, most of whom happen to be in attendance tonight.

Bob, my companion, he thinks "He's got soul man, I also believe he rapes babies, you can tell by the way he plays guitar."

So there's this girl sat next to us, she appears to be drawing the gig. I think I've heard about her before, its been suggested that one of my cartoonist chums does a similar thing, but charges the promoters a more modest fee for illustrations.

So my friend Bob, we played chicken together as kids, I haven't seen him for ages, now he has only one leg, the other a rather half arsed prosthetic, the Nigerian NHS I guess. I don't really feel comfortable asking about it. It's ben 14 years, how long do these things take to grow back?

Skeleton Bob "Why's he singing like that? Is he American?" No Bob, its just the way he's singing, "He sings better when not singing in American."

Bob wonders if the drummer's boobs bounce when she drums, its hard to tell under that jumper. Nice drumming on the faster numbers, kind of just functional on the slower ones.

Ooh, one of the songs started like it was going to be a Joy Division cover, and then another like Born To Be Wild, before veering off course.

Bob's leg knocks against a table in time to the must, people nearby glance over, muttering to themselves, racists.

Foxface on last "Tired, been around Glasgow too long, they've stopped progressing and should really just stop." There's already one Sons & Daughters out there, do we really need another? For that matter I think they sound just like Foxface too, they need to find another audience, Bob's right, they need to progress somehow.

The wee oscillating, squeeling tone thing at the start of the set, whilst uncalled for, could end up being their saviour if they learn how to use it.

"The singer has just stood up on a table screaming, like a maddenned ostrich, oh no, he's pissing on someone's humus. What an animal, he shouldn't be allowed in a vegan establishment."

And as my companion descending is to potentially libellous claims about what is happening on stage, in a cynical effort to draw the reader's attention to this blog, I feel I should, not so much justify, but pontificate. Whilst I firmly established in my mind, that going to three or four gigs every week is possibly a symptom of a sick mind, especially bearing the quality of the bands and the promoters, and well quality of the review writing, I also feel that you guys, the readers, aren't pulling your weight.

I'm guessing that a number of you readers are actually in the bands that I go to see, or have a hand in running / promoting the gigs. I pay you money, and I tell people about the show afterwards, I try to tell people about it afterwards. I write about the bands, and my feelings the sights, sounds and sensations that you've provided, cos well to be honest no one else is going to. I feel its a bit of a lop sided relationship.

I thrive on people reading this, on seeing how many hits this site gets, just like the bands thrive on seeing a full and eager audience. The way this site gets loads of hits isn't by cultivating a small dedicated band of readers, I'll leave that to community sites, this site gets loads of hits by other people posting links in their websites, blogs and messageboards. Not just one link, but loads of them.

So go forth and reciprocate.

Maybe I'll start actually reviewing the shows if there are people reading.

Ooh, Drive Carefully Records at the 13th Note on Saturday
see you there

Photies
here

Reviews
here

The Swedish Polarbears - Nice n Sleazy

There was this girl outside Sleazy's, I think she is my ex-wife's neighbour. Late last night after the Plimptons show I was trying to explain to the ex-wife my fears that maybe going to 14 gigs a month isn't healthy, the sign of a diseased mind.

I could actually see 4 or 5 decent mainsteam acts for the amount I spend on nameless crap local bands, English twee and Swedish Kids with Handbags.

Tonight's mob, The Swedish Polarbears, I might have seen in Liverpool at the IPO Festival if I'd been paying enough attention.

On the right is they have an indie rock android in a red t-shirt on rhythm guitar andd I think they may be a Teenage Fanclub tribute act.

For the fifteen people here tonight I might continue to development my theory about live music. I'm not a music journo, I a chap who goes to too many gigs and they're all so flawed. Tonight and last night oh so empty, Sunday night such poor sound, the noisy blandness of all of Saturday's bands, Friday was the best, but even they were a handful of quality and well-loved bands who'll never bother the pop charts and will be lucky if record sales get into four figures for all the thousands of pounds they've poured into their band over the years.

Everyone who's doing this, the bands on stage and waiting in the wings, the promoters and bookers stood bearded on the door, the venues, the photographers, the fanzine writers, the bloggers, we do it all for so little reward. Heck some of us don't even enjoy it. If this blog gets more than a 100 hits in a day I cream myself. If the band breaks even on hiring the venue, its a success, regardless of the bus fare, van hire or plane ticket.

There's got to be a way to make this better, more rewarding, more lucrative.

On stage the Polarbears sound great, perfect harmonies, soaring lead guitar, crashing drums and cartoon character looks.

But none of it matters.

Ooh, punkiness, they sound like Ash now, or maybe Weezer or Lit, I wish it were fourteen years ago now.

And songs called "Norman Blake" win over the crowd, but for the ten paying punters, kts hardly worth it, the band are great, I sob, but this is so wrong by no fault of their own. Is it my fault for not bringing anyone else along? Robbie got me to come, the Swedish Polarbears had emailed him to come. God knows about the guy from Jeremy Beadle's Big hand sat on his own opposite. But it was down to me to bring someone else, to keep the chain going. I should have pleasd with the ex-wife a bit more.

After they shuffle off stage, me and Robbie head upstairs, I can't face seeing Skeleton Bob again, my heart is so far out of it.

Review
here

A Smile and a Ribbon, Skeleton Bob - The Winchester Club - Woodside Social

First on, and halfway through their set when I arrived were Skeleton Bob, "They did what they did well and weren't too affected" That's what Katie surmised. A little bit country I guess. They've lost a little since Joe90 on bass left last year.

A Smile and a Ribbon, were on next. "Aw man, they have a melodica" - Tom

There's a guy with a camera who looks remarkably like Richard from Sounds of Sweden.

"Where are you from?"
"Sweden"

It started very twee, but the tempo changes seemed a bit disjointed. Is the drummer drunk... ooh, cute glokenspiel player.

There are people in the crowd singing along, they know the words.

Being twee isn't an excuse for bing shit.

Explanations of who's in the band isn't enough if the sound's poor and from where I was sitting, it sounded boomy and out of tune.

Ooh, Robbie has stormed out in disgust.

Oop, the camera chap is on a microphone doing backing doo wop noises, that garners them extra plus points.

That's got to be the first time I've used the word 'garner' in years. I used to have a music teacher called Miss Garner, she was hott and cool too.

It sounds cacophonous, like the back row of music class. My back row chums, like Jim Jam Garcia and Saddam Haddad, would be proud that such a band could get a gig like this.