anarchistic undertones x-mas bash 2 featuring:
the restarts / my own religion / something somethings / cot death / offbeat heroes / projectile vomit / dammit / davenport collective
satan’s hollow manchester
16/12/07
satan’s hollow – because santa and satan are anagrams of each other, both are associated with the colour red and likewise referred to sometimes as nick, this horror film set inspired hole seemed like the perfect place for a punk rock christmas party. a dark place of ott gothic decorations with a centrally located stage and decent bar, it’s a cool place to hang out with little time wasted between bands. it should have been a £5 entrance on the door, but after getting checked for id[!] and given a wristband to get back in, i was told to go upstairs and the money would be sorted out there. i wandered in expecting to get stopped but no one pulled me up so i ended up getting the whole day’s entertainment for free! the local punk community had come out to spend a day, or at least seven hours, enjoying whatever was put in front of them and with eight bands on offer the quantity couldn’t be argued with even if the quality to begin with was less dependable. venue score
davenport collective – the problem with reggae influenced rock is the bass player has to know how to pin down a solid groove and the brass section have to be good to cut it, because the guitars always play the same bloody chords no matter what song is being offered to the crowd. Unfortunately, with a sax player who was completely anonymous and a bassist absent without leave, all the collective managed for twenty minutes was some aimless tunes hampered further by vocals lost to a poor sound mix. overly generous applause followed each identikit-song, though as everyone was still sober at 5pm i think it was far and away more than was genuinely deserved. 1s
dammit – viewing this cornwall outfit’s myspace site you could be forgiven for thinking a trio of undiscovered rock gods on the verge of conquering the planet were about to take to the stage. tragically however, this quasi-thrash metal/punk outfit took up the limp wrested gauntlet dropped by the davenport collective and despite the change in guitar sound, amateur hour wasn’t over quite yet. veering from metal to punk and failing to command either, the band were actually technically good musicians but lacked an important ingredient; some decent songs. even their brief set contained enough space to include a passable rendition of the misfits standard ‘I turned into a martian’, but if anything this simply highlighted the deficiency in what original material the trio had to call upon. 1s
projectile vomit – despite being beaten into second place for worst band name of the evening, more on that later, this hardened four-piece marked the gig kicking into a higher gear and the first discovery of something that had so far been missing; anthems. obviously enthral to edinburgh’s own punk legends ‘the exploited’, the band had an impressively aggressive attitude and helped in no small amount by a young frontman built like a tank who had apparently brought at least a dozen of his drinking buddies down with him to visit us soft english nancy boys. a welcome improvement to the proceedings.
offbeat heroes – an object lesson in how to play ska even if a critic would say little has been added to the successful formula other bands have been churning out for a decade or more. it lifted the atmosphere and by then i had realised a large number of the audience members were actually in acts that were taking the stage. entertaining although i would struggle to pick out any particular songs and the saxophone player managed to prove beyond doubt that white kids should not be allowed to have their hair in dreadlocks – it just doesn’t work.
cot death – and the winners of the worst name of night award goes to these guys. thankfully, this harsher version of the ska punk blueprint had put much more thought into their material than they had to the band name, and armed with a frontman who threw himself around like stitches and bruises were part of his trade, were the best of the small timers on the evening’s bill. with real variety, passion and energy to the music, the only mystery concerning them is explaining why most of the band appeared again later in the night calling themselves my own religion …
the something somethings – the death of many new acts trying to make an impression on a foreign crowd can be down to a poor sound mix, but these guys seemed more inclined toward musical suicide. a large portion of the blame has to be pinned on singer who was a gobby little shit between songs, and then didn’t really do much during the brief moments some noise broke out of the amplifiers. i would find it hard to believe some cock up didn’t ruin most of the songs from being played properly, and while it seemed a lot of people were having a good laugh, it wasn’t much fun to watch for the outsiders.
my own religion - …in which four members of the aforementioned cot death returned minus saxophone and with the guitarist taking over from the other frontman. focusing much more on a punishing brand of hard core punk, this is what i imagine to be the ideal mixture for the group who probably started cot death to give their other friends something to do. if the two different outfits were amalgamated into one, a serious talent would be in the offing that could mix ska and hardcore without breaking stride which isn’t normally easy to accomplish, but unless someone can convince the saxophonist to take a break for most of the set that sadly isn’t going to happen.
the restarts – having become used to attending gigs in bigger venues were the headline act at least have one roadie to do the donkey work for them, seeing these london punk veterans setting up their own equipment was a little odd, but once the music started it was clear why this trio were the main draw of the night. blending straight ahead two minutes anthem with rhythm-driven slower numbers, the band were pure class leaving the only question being why weren’t they playing to more people. still, being allowed to get so close to these prime exponents of punk n’ roll was something of an honour and it made paying £10 for seven hours parking seem even more of a bargain.
a quality day out.