Last Time I Saw

The first band on the bill were War Wolf, whom I've been tracking since their existence was announced back in november. Since the band was sold as the new band from the guys in dopefight (the same bassist and drummer at least), and Dopefight were fucking amazing at this same kind of thing, I was pretty damn keen to see them play at this gig. Interestingly, the hype that I had built up for myself seemed not to have spread too much, and War Wolf got a much smaller crowd than they deserved.

As I said, the drummer and bassist from Dopefight were joined onstage by a towering great man who I gather also plays in the excellently named Sea Bastard. What they had come up with was awesome, and basically an awesome set of songs, with powerful riffs-a-plenty. The band was in a curious position of feeling like a new band in many ways, but at the same time obviously being experienced and skilled both in writing songs and playing the to an audience. They didn't fuck up once (that I could see), and chugged out their songs one after the other. They took two breaks, one to introduce themselves and ask people to move forward (which was obliged, naturally), and another to apologise for kicking the photographer. I can't enthuse enough about War Wolf's set - it was intense, raw, and diverse; some songs crept in with small guitar licks, whereas others galloped ahead, faster than anything else played all night.

The Second band on the bill was pretty much the complete opposite of War Wolf, being completely hitherto unknown to me, who were the third band on the bill for the whole tour. Human Fly walked onto the stage with Loafers, Led Zeppelin T-shirts, and huge banks of pedals. Wide-eyed, their vocalist promised something 'psychedelic,' which they certainly delivered - In terms of complexity, Human Fly made War Wolf look like The Ramones. Of course, I like The Ramones, whereas my appreciation for the progressive and twiddly music is a fairly new one, so it would be easy to dismiss this band as pretentious wankybollocks. The music was interesting, though, that cannot be denied, and had potential to make a weird, fun kind of live show - I can imagine this band (if they stick at it) being the kind to incorporate a crazy light-show at their gigs (by which point I think I really would be done with them). Unfortunately, however, it is proven true once again that the more complex things get, the more things can go wrong, as after one song they were forced to take a break whilst a speaker-cable was replaced. Elsewhere, I could see the lead guitarist getting visibly annoyed at one of his many pedals failing mid-song, although he did not break tune or rhythm, to his credit.

By my count, Human Fly played four songs across a half-hour set, which is quite an achievement, although the last quarter-song or so for me was the only bit which truly impressed me - they dropped down their sound and began warbling out a whole string of samply-effects, only to blast out of that with a really brilliant riff to end things.

The third band of the night, who I would consider part of a dual-headline really, were Conan from Liverpool. Conan are a hard band to google, for obvious reasons, and I think the obscurity rather suits them. I've said before that the crowd tonight was smaller than I expected, but by this point plenty of people were inside, chattering away. There was a funny feel which bordered on cliquishness - I saw members of Merciless Precision, Disfortune, Human Cull, Cernunnos, plus other people I know working in the industry, all tucked away in the crowd. With that said, one guy I got talking to said he had come all the way from Sweden for the gig, so perhaps the sense of exclusivity is not as total as I might assume.

Certainly, Conan are not the most accessible of bands, although I really like them. They stood with their instruments and produced an horrific apocalyptic thunder that pretty much shook me to my core. If I were deaf, I would have felt like I was being massaged gently by the speakers a few metres away from me. I suppose it is moments like this that I realise why Conan occupy a slot of music known as Doom Metal, since they really do produce a kind of noise that feels like the world might be ending.

The unfortunate thing about seeing Doom bands, of course, is that not a lot tends to happen. The bands play slowly and the music is not conducive to any kind of dancing whatsoever, which results in a very static kind of trance. If the sound carries it off, then this is fine, but if the immersion is broken then a set like this, which has large sections that are mostly just reverb and feedback, can be really very boring. Conan just about managed to avoid that tonight, but it's something I felt on the edge of a couple of times. The punctuation of this with really strong rolling guitar/bass lines kept the hooks in, along with the sheer intensity of the sound, until the end of their set. When Conan finished, I quite literally felt relieved, like a weight had been lifted off me, or I had come rest after a long ordeal. I really can't explain why I like this kind of band, except that it leaves me with rather comforting feeling of warmth, without the potential health risks of, say, heroin.

The final band of the night were the American sludge band Bongripper, who played, solidly, for what felt like fucking hours. I've noticed before, seeing bands like Kylesa and such, that music like this can leave you in a bit of a trance. I caught hold of a friend of mine afterwards, and spoke to him. He said to me that, towards the end of their set, he had gotten really hot, to the point of overheating. These bands are far from his favourite and so he decided to go outside, but found himself more or less stuck to the spot, unable to break from listening to the noise this band was putting out. And it was relentless - there was not a moment's silence from when they started to when they stopped, with only one noticeable point (that I recall) where one song became another.

Much has been said and written about the moment when the optimism of the 1960s became the cynicism of the 1970s - when the psychedelics of Jethro Tull became the metal of Black Sabbath, when the excitement of Easy Rider became the tiredness of Two Lane Blacktop (awesome film, btw), liberation became debauchery. Simply put, my theory is that this kind of music is in many ways a continuation of that loss of innocence in the 20th century, culminating in a kind of malevolent lethargy.

If sunday's orange goblin gig had not been particularly metal in demographic, this one more than made up for it. The room contained so much black clothing that it's a wonder any light could penetrate it at all. Various studs and spikes made all kinds of awkward angles, without even the joy of anything very spectacular arising. Not only that, but I heard one of the door-staff saying that this is the very first metal gig that had given them any trouble, ever. One guy had to be ejected before any music had even begun, for being so piss-drunk that he fell flat on his face. Twice. Another guy, later, I saw furiously slamming his fist on the bar and tables, because someone had stolen his jacket. He did this for a full hour before remembering that he had put it in the cloak-room, rather than leaving it on the bar like he thought. By this point he was also so drunk and angry that he nearly got in a fight later, and was eventually 'asked to leave.'

The final nail in the coffin, before this gig had even begun, was the fact that the bands dicked about so much that they didn't even sound-check before the venue opened, meaning that each had to do it quietly, 10-minutes before their set. I've been going to the fleece a long time and I have never heard so much feedback or imbalance as I did that night.

The first band on were called Admiron, which I couldn't figure out how to pronounce. It didn't matter because they played to around 50 people and failed to provoke any kind of response at all. A couple of people went up to the front to watch but either the sound or the band (probably both) were right off, totally missing any semblance of being good.

Between bands I had time to reflect rather more on the nature of these bands, and my dichotomy between punk and metal that I mentioned earlier. Of course, without going too heavily into the history, I can think of plenty of reason why this distinction has become meaningless (e.g. the 80s 'crossover' period, or the popularity of black flag with contemporary doom bands such as The obsessed), but after seeing a couple of bands recently, I noticed how much modern Death Metal bands such as Sylosis whom I saw recently, and now Vader or Aborted on this bill, resemble older metal bands such as Iron Maiden, in style and ethos. I realise that, in their music and stage performance, Death Metal bands are the modern inheritance of a time when Heavy Metal music was feared and demonised, rather than considered a slightly sad but potentially impressive genre. I have previously lauded bands for having a sense of humour about the ridiculousness of their sound, and I worry that these bands might, by contrast, be playing it straight.

The second band on were an American group called Bonded By Blood, who once again managed to set up and soundcheck in less than 10 minutes, and consequently for half their set were mostly inaudible except for the bass-drum. When the band's engineers finally got a handle in it, I have to say this band were a bit better than the first, not that that says much. They had a much more 'thrash' sound, and actually triggered a little movement in the crowd, which I suppose counts in their favour, although generally sucking I think just about cancelled that out. Their vocalist had a Municipal Waste t-shirt on, who are one of the most fun bands I've ever seen, and I could see that this is something Bonded By Blood were trying to emulate, but they fell well short of the mark here. I'm not sure if this was because of their quality as a band or just the audience being useless turdmunchers, and I'm not willing to go listen to them to find out.

Learning from the previous bands' mistakes, Aborted spent a little longer setting themselves to go, even having a brief line-check. Of course, just because they sounded better, does not imply that the band were any better, but they were certainly different. Aborted have a reputation as a 'technical' band, which in practise means playing the fastest, most complicated junk possible, for not much reason. The result was a full hour of relentless fretwanking (complete with great guitar-faces) and super-fast drum-blasts, interrupted occasionally by gaps between songs and, once, the vocalist having to rebuke the crowd for being 'too macho.' I don't know specifically what he was referring to but I got the impression that the 'pit', which was large but mostly empty space, had gotten a little too rough. It seems that I wasn't the only person having a bad time, but others had decided to take it out on their friends/total strangers, which can make a lousy evening even worse. The relentless thundering sound is not one that I will often complain about, partly because I have some pretty high-grade earplugs, but for someone unused to such destructive 'music,' this might have resembled some sort of sensory torture. For me, being tired, jaded, and slightly intelligent, it was just boring. 

Eventually, inexorably, the headline act came on stage. It would seem obvious, but Vader pulled by far the largest crowd, making the venue seem much fuller than it had for most of the night. Vader had had people  on stage for a while, setting up drums and guitars, which enabled the band themselves to walk straight on and start playing, which is how it should be. Interestingly, the band seemed rather aware of their audience, addressing the crowd equally in english and polish, and each getting a similar amount of cheer. Not that cheer was quite the right word, more of a dull 'yarrr' from the centre of the room, as if no-body was really that happy to be there. I have no idea how the rest of the tour was going but Vader claimed to be quite happy to be back in the Fleece, having played to a great crowd on their tour with black-metal band Gorgoroth back in 2011, and this by comparison must have been a little disappointing. I left not long after they started, so I cannot comment much on the quality of Vader's set, but to be honest I could not wait to leave.

The support bands seemed to be named in a rather weird kind of theme, being Baron Greenback, The Earls of Mars, and The Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell. Greenback are comparative locals, bringing a coachload of people with them from Evesham for the gig, and therefore filling the room quite quickly. The band fit nicely on stage and played a proficient set of riffy rock tunes. They played tightly and stood well, their vocalist moving around just enough, but there was something about the band that held them back still. Their songs were fine but I think the members were either new to the game or much too old- none of the riffs or breaks really struck me hard enough; I hope for them that perhaps with practice, some really great songs will come out.

The next band, by comparison, were really very innovative. When I say innovative, of course, I simply mean 'weird,' but in a good way. Their band was a little bigger in size and sound, driven by piano lines but supported very well by both guitar and some really snazzy double-bass. Interestingly the songs were less rhythmic than I have come to associate with the genre which suggests to me that The Earls of Mars would not be considered a Stoner Rock band, but I don't think that mattered very much. Their set was, beyond anything else, weird to the point of fun (rather than funny), which was great.

The first thing that struck me about The Sir Admiral Cloudesley Shovel, unsurprisingly, was their name. Quite often one comes across a band with such a long and extravagant name that it seems excellent (perhaps "gandalf murphy and the slambovian circus of dreams", for example), but this was not one. If I thought Baron Greenback had been in the game long enough to run out of ideas, then I wont flinch from pointing that accusation this way as well. The band came onstage looking like they'd gone into a modern fashion school as volunteers the week they were practicing 'early 70s retro,' and busted out a few songs that I pretty much did my best to ignore and keep myself busy. I didn't mind The Earls of Mars not sounding exactly like the headline (quite the contrary), but Sir Admiral might have done better if they'd been a little closer to Orange Goblin, and a bit further from Spinal Tap. Along with a stupid name which I imagine was meant to sound 'mysterious' or 'trippy,' (and utterly fails), I can't imagine wanting to see this band again.

The opening band, who played to a tiny audience, were called Tom Holder and the Railway Sleepers. I've seen this band now more times than I've seen my toes today (but I think have yet to write about), and I think they're alright, but I think they probably deserve the lack of recognition they're getting. Their sound is a novel kind of skiffley-hobo blues, which would fit in well at a party or circus, being principally concerned with alcohol and with a somewhat impoverished feel, which I'm sure is deliberate. They play a cover of James Brown's Feel Good but infuse it with a kind of melancholic irony that I actually really like, but I don't know how far this band will be able to go, since they don't seem to have written any new songs for a long while.

Second to play were Armchair Committee, who since I last saw them have really tightened up their set. They came on stage and get set up, then pushed out a really nice-sounding set. They've grown into a band playing somewhat psychedelic rock that is also reminiscent of 90s alternative or even in some ways grunge. Despite all this, they seemed to go largely ignored by the audience, and by the end of the set I could see their bassist Dave getting annoyed at their unresponsiveness, genuinely shouting into the mic to remind people that they were still on stage.

Lucero, as a band, exist to confirm my suspicions that Country music doesn't work in the UK. If you couldn't tell from the poster, the band are from Tennessee and are quite proud of their southern roots, and I can see this coming through their music. Thematically, I can see a greater link between them and the first band, with their slow, sad songs about drinking too much, and their fast, excitable songs about drinking too much. As I've said, however, the audience seemed like they'd be more at home at a hipster 'punk' gig, and went ballistic when the band offered to play a Jawbreaker cover, so quite what they were getting from slow steely guitars and southern crooning seems a little unclear, and any attempt I made to understand it would be better described in this series of short comics.