Monday the 12th saw a first visit to the Louisiana, Bristol. Knowing nothing of the headliner, it was another case of a flyer grabbing attention in the timeline and hitting interested on the event from there.
Then came a surprise a couple of days beforehand when finding an article on the BBC website singing the praises of Death Pill’s cause; this I didn’t know about.
Death Pill’s story is phenomenal; so much so, it’s humbling writing now to think I got to witness part of it. Continue reading
Girls Like Us (GLU) released Bitter ‘Til The Bitter End the same weekend I caught the band live at the Chelsea Inn, Bristol.
It was a blistering set, part of another top night there (In With the Inn Crowd), during which I was about to turn to a mate and say, ‘killer bass line’ only for him to beat me to it with the exact same words.
The debut album certainly lives up to its name with lyrics plenty raw enough to suggest lived experience fuelling its theme of two-timing, dickhead boyfriends/blokes more often than not from entitled backgrounds. Continue reading
One thing I never expected to hear at a punk gig: a shout-out for ex-footballer Gary Lineker, and more so one well received. Such is the embarrassment of messes the BBC has made in dealing with Lineker’s Tweet of disgust for insidious government policy and terminology, the player I once jeered from the terraces when watching play against Chelsea—I still remember one glorious miss vividly—has become a hero of our times.
Coming from openers Volatile Idea (missing from flyer below), it was not only warning to the fascist elite that their days are numbered—for they definitely are when ex-footballers used to a lavish lifestyle (ish; there wasn’t the same money in football back in the 80s/90s) see eye-to-eye with those that same elite would consider society’s most ‘radical’—but also the first memorable moment from a night full of them.
I can’t remember what took me to Mundo Primitivo’s Paisaje Interior, but Holy shit I’m sure glad who/whatever it was did.
Track 1: ‘Intro’ is an instrumental with a rock ‘n’ roll swagger reminiscent of Duane Eddy’s ‘Peter Gunn’; there’s menace and purpose in the brooding prowl, a cat on the move but always taught and ready to pounce; it turns out to be the calm before the storm.
Whirring into life like a comet lowrider being fired up, Usurper of the Universe is an ever expanding cloud of trippy space dust gritty with derision. Who, or perhaps what, is SÖNUS is a question the answer to can change with every listen; the six track album as much space rock opera—a beer and bong infused version of Queen’s Flash Gordon score with SÖNUS playing both band and Ming—as a frustration-driven social commentary not only on the world we currently live in but always have.
According to punks of the 70s, the advent of something like the internet meant we’d all be living in an Anarchy Utopia by 2018.
But we’re not, we here with Donald Trump in charge of America, Johnny Rotten selling butter and David Attenborough not even a vegetarian.
What went wrong; is punk dead?
No, cos here’s some punk poetry right f-ing here instead!
N. P. Ryan 