Twee as Fuck All-dayer

I arrived a wee bit early and at the door they give me a fanzine to read and a cupcake. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads out in my tummy. The cupcake has white gooey sugar icing on top and the word "twee" painstakingly written in blue flowing script.

The weather is fine outside, but before long the first band are onstage.


The Mai 68s

Guitar solos like a rusty stanley knife blade, like on the ground near the bins outside a factory, in the rain. Thunderous guitar and bass, with standy up drumer and slightly bewildered looking singing girl in a stripey top, wearing beret and drinking glasses of red wine.

Ithink I saw them play at The Betsy Trotwood a few months ago. They suit the raised stage that this venue offers and they seem to improved their game. The recorded version of Froth on the Daydream doesn't do justice to its sheer power when played live, it'll make you take a step and a half backwards and wish you'd got wine instead of a Jack Daniels and coke.

Even for the first band of the Twee As Fuck alldayer, the place is filling up and there's friendly banter between the stage and the folk at the front.

Neat set-closing song with members leaving the stage incrementally so all that's left is the guitar chap on his knees, tweaking the dials on his effects pedals to turn up the squelch on the thunder.

The Margarets, they're very young, no drummer, just a portable CD player, the ipod broke, I can empathise. The first number was an instrumental, from where I was stood it sounded a bit New Orderish, especially in the bass end of the scale.


The Margarets

There was a bit of the Swedish jangle pop about them.

CD player cocked up their last song so they had to abandon it halfway through which would have ended the set on a sour note if it wasn't for Camila (from Weepop and Your Heart Still Breaks) demanding they finish the song again without any backing. It caught them off guard a wee bit, but ended up sounding kind of sweet.

There's this art exhibition upstairs Pavla's Twee as Fuck Polaroids and Nicola Probert art exhibition. It pretty neat.

There's also a new smoking bit roof garden thing which overlooks the alley next to The MacBeth. A bit too crowded and cool for me though. I stay downstairs, leaning on the bar trying to stave off narcolepsy.


Mono Taxi

Mono Taxi are just a two piece, drums and guitar, with both folk doing vocals. For the early songs I was thinking they were cast in the White Stripes mould, you know, a little blues, a little garage. But it got more bombastic in the middle, stadium drum mincing.

Lots of healthy feedback and distorted guitar. yay


Little My

18 instruments / microphones
13 camera people

Its the mighty Little My collective again. The bass bunny still looks like Laura Palmer from Twin Peaks, I was discussing t with a chap off of the internet, who pointed out that Laura Palmer never had rabbit ears, and neither did her identical cousin Maddy.

They took forever to get set up and even then, for a seven piece with literally hundreds of instruments, there wasn't as much noise from the stage as you'd expect. Two glocks, stylophone, melodica, egg shakersand all the best of twee paraphernalia, but what you heard was mostly guitar.

Ah well.

It would be interesting to see them play on their home turf in Cardiff with however many extra members as they muster back there.

I saw Esiotrot practising in an alley round the corner during my inbetween band wandering and they sounded prety neat, trombone, ukelele, guitar. It was nice.


Esiotrot

However, on stage, they are atrocious.

They are out of tune, badly mixed, drifting in and out of lucidity. I don't know what to say. Maybe I just don't get them. What I do get is this must be one of their worse performances.

I'm scribbling this in the gallery upstairs and I can see the street outside, I can see Laura Palmer from Little My, she is very cute. A chap called Alexander wanders over and suggests I draw a picture of Esiotrot, and goes on to explain that he's in a band called To Arms Etc. I had a listen on MySpace when I was typing this up, they sound very good, they have a gig on the 31st of July.

Oh thank fuck, I think Esiotrot played a three song set.


The Bobby McGees


Skip Theatre


Hatcham Social


Theoretical Girl


Comet Gain

Acts
The Mai 68s
The Margarets
Mono Taxi
Little My
Esiotrot

Photies
Mine
Dansette's
CraigBoney's

Twee as Fuck: The Margarets, St. Christopher, Hatcham Social - Buffalo

I thought I'd arrived at the last Twee as Fuck of the year stylishly late, but alas, I'm early enough to catch one of the free CDs on the door. I guess there's thirty people here by 10pm. I glimpse Thorsten and Camilla sat at the other side of the room, their latest eagerly awaited podcast is a corker, I wonder if they'll do an xmas one. I keep my distance to avoid cornering them ad wonder when the bands start.

I spy another bloke here on his own, at the opposite end of the bar, we glance at each other suspiciously, I think he's jealous, he left his notebook at home. He reminds me of Robbie from IoMoPS, I wonder if he got round to doing his Christmas song for this year. May I suggest "Wednesday Girl at Xmas" or "Little Miss Maybe's first Xmas" as possible song titles.

Realise the fallacy in wanting to avoid being creepy, but at the same time, standing on my own, next to the toilets, scribbling. Wish bands would hurry up, get on stage so I can fuck off home.

Four skinny lads take to the stage, no drummer, they are from Sweden, they are The Margarets. My ex-wife many months ago coined the phrase for them 'Swedish kids with handbags'.



They sound like two parts early Stone Roses and one part Acid House Kings. Easy G, C, Am, D type songs with noodles and phaser effects. Stephen Pastel would be proud of the vocals, Best use of iPod for drums, crowd noise and St. Etienne/Just Joans found movie dialog clips.

Ooh, I just remembered, at work today, a colleague was playing some Polish funk rock, and one of the songs sounded remarkably like The Just Joans's 'I Hear your the man now John'.

Stood nearby the bar here is a tall hairy chap who looks like Big Duncan from Dananananaykrod, but he smells different, he runs a label called Wax.

Ooh, Elaine the promoter comes over to say hi. I get all nervous but try to come across as a pro-muso journo, fail badly. Scribble note 'must come up with more sensible bloggery muso journo things to say in similar situations'.

I spot PopKid from Spiral Scratch and elsewhere this tall scrawny ginger girl who I;d swear I was in a drama society with at university a decade ago. The place is filling up and I feel about one chessboard row less self-conscious.

A short girl tugs on my arm and asks of I have a cigarette and suddenly I'm in Bolton, November 1995. Time travel fucking terrifies me. I'm in the Academy Bar, I can't see my girlfriend, but if I could would she recognise me? The jacket and the sideburns are thesame, besides she'd be about 14 years too young. Time travel fucking sucks.



Twelve years and one month later St. Christopher take to the stage, a two-piece tonight. The chummy Yorkshire accented between and mid-song banter in stark contrast to the shoegazery noise. They're missing their drummer tonight, relying on a drum machine.

Whilst its kind of easy to get lost in the music, the 14 song set is dragging. Its only at the last song I find they're an old Sarah Records band. Revering C86 folk probably care deeply, but I want to see the headline act.

The two people in the crowd who still give a crap shout for an encore, luckily they don't oblige.

The Buffalo Bar is full, folk chatting amongst themselves, scant regard for the music, smiling, engrossed in conversations. Time has passed, its half midnight, do bands usually go on this late, I try to remember.


Hatcham Social on last, a three-piece with a standy up drummer, matching hairstyles and torn jeans. They play in an inwardly facing triangular formation. Strange, difficult to describe songs, clunky guitars. Folk in the crowd and behind the DJ desk were dancing and singing along. It seems jolly good fun, but the words are low and the ba ba ba choruses are like another language.

Bands
The Margarets
St. Christopher
Hatcham Social