My friend Seth was outside, having a cigarette and trying to loose himself from a bird tryin’ to chat him up. As much as he looks as a more lascivious version of Zach Galifianakis, he keeps raking them women in. So it goes.
The people of Hantu had some real good merch (as usual) and some of the mini fridges that Red Bull donated were being decorated by a couple of illustrators.
“You coming in?” I ask Seth and although he can’t wait to shake his tail, he can’t be arsed to wait for music. Never a patient man, probably explains his chain smoking ways. Faster than you can biodegrade a ciggie filter, The Hot Soles took the stage. Strange, I was expecting the gig to be in the bigger stage, but since it’s a Saturday night, the club night and the gig could clash. I guess?
The Hot Soles are like revivalist rock. A lot of soul, a lot of Blues Brothers shenanigans and a lot of ‘Razzle Dazzle’. They never fail to impress me and although the stage seems bent in murdering guitarist/singer Tony Marmaluke, they do a fine show. More of this, please, as I’m overplaying ‘Ready to burn’ and ‘Call the regulator’.
Mad Colours are always that odd bunch that entertains in both the stage presence and music parts. Just like The Hot Soles, the energy devoted to their music is evident and you couldn’t keep bass player/screamer Del as he jumped from the stage, cavorted, jumped again and swirled with his bass around. ‘Antique guerilla’ seems to be a hit with the cult-like followers (and the uninitiated), although ‘Murderous’ and ‘Hot wet sticky flowers’ are growing on me.
Dead Sons have changed a lot since that day I saw them in a crowded theatre by the city centre. They probably won’t play anything from those days and judging by the new material, there’s no need to do callbacks to that seemingly ancient material. Let’s call that the Old Testament of Dead Sons and now we are in the New Testament, but instead of “love thy neighbour”, this is more of a “fear your neighbour”/”our loving God let the beasts loose” sort of New Testament. ‘Bang on full drum’ has that chilling scream, ‘Room 54’ is Lynch-ian and new track ‘Stuck in a maze’ is the darkest side of trippy psychedelic I’ve heard these fine young gentlemen play.
I leave the gig after saying goodbye to some acquaintances and look for Seth. He’s frenchkissing the girl he was playing hardball with. Motherfucker, there goes the ride home. Incidentally, Dead Sons‘ songs can be synched with chapters of the bible, but I’ll let the expert on those facts talk about it soon.
Words & Photos: Sam J. Valdés López.