Call me Russ L

Eater of Souls

Posted in Music by Russ L on 3 August, 2010

(There has, of late, been a certain degree of what we might euphemistically call “life dislocation”. Shiznizzle that wasn’t for the best, forsooth, but I am going to try not to angst at you too much. That all happened shortly after this post was not-quite-fully-written. Upon returning to it now I find that it was actually closer to being fully written than I thought, and so I’ve added the “the”s and “and”s and so forth that were required to turn it into something distantly approaching English before going forth and posting. I’m sure there was more I intended to say, but I’m similarly sure that it probably wouldn’t have been any less of a waste of your time than what’s actually here and so it doesn’t really matter. I also suppose that writing about a gig six weeks after it happened isn’t really in the least bit unusual for me anyway, and so this barely needs a disclaimer).

The occasion of the catering at The Rabbit And Rovers being taken over by Soul Food Project (I recommend the Eucharist bread and communion wine, with angel’s hair pasta. Or the Steak Diana Ross and an Al Green Salad, to go another way with it. The jokes write themselves. They’re not very funny, obviously, but they do write themselves) was heralded by a free gig on the 19th of June. Free! With further hints that there might be some free food! It actually could easily have worked out a lot more expensive than a non-free gig given that the biggest attraction wasn’t on till after eleven, but this seems to be the way of the world nowadays. I grow weary of campaigning against injustice and/or don’t want to play anymore. Sort it out amongst yourselves. I didn’t get any free food either. Bah to the lot of you.

The line-up, meanwhile, seemed to be largely down to those Cold Rice hornswagglers: Birmingham’s principal exponents of Garage in all of its many varieties (apart from the champaign’n’hand-choppy-dance two-step variety. And the varieties that fix/house/feed cars). This was acceptable to me.

Bronze Medals were on when I got there – one of those bands who combine melodic rock with fiddly/twiddly/widdly bits, like Minus The Bear or somesuch. Maybe. I don’t know, there are at least a million billion bands that sound like this but I just can’t think of many of them. They were alright, anyway, with some hooks and a bit of energy. Also the one kid was rocking some sort of faintly disturbing curly pile for a hairdo, and this was certainly a thing.

Next on were Cold-Rice-eers The Castillians (sic), about whom there was absolutely nothing Spanish whatsoever – they sounded absolutely exactly like some of those numerous bands from the “Nuggets” compilation whose names you can’t remember. That is meant to sound descriptive rather than dismissive. Another (even vaguer, believe it or not) way of attempting to describe them would be to say they played sixties-o-rama with lots of summery melodies amongst their rock’n’roll, and some of it was very catchy. Their cover of Kylie/Little Eva’s “Loco-motion” fit perfectly, and I enjoyed their set.

Fellow Cold Rice types Vinny And The Curse, meanwhile, don the sneers and leather jackets that they found at the other end of the great big pretend-American dress-up box. They were far more aggressive and snotty than The Castillians, but still catchy – a bit more rockabilly and a fair ol’ chunk more punk, I suppose. I definitely liked them the most of the three bands I saw. The little light box with their name on it was lovely, as well.

As much as I’d have loved to stay after this and see Copter (they really are ace, and I haven’t witnessed them for about three years) I couldn’t, because – and I was as shocked by this as you will be – their magic soul’n’roll powers do not actually bend bus times to their collective will. And because taxis charge you five thousand pounds to move three feet. I went home on the bus instead.

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2 Responses

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  1. The Baron said, on 4 August, 2010 at 1:56 pm

    Ahhhhh the old last bus / taxi dilemma. On a slightly related issue is it me or are the last buses finishing earlier and earlier these days? Many’s the night me and Lady B end up puffing and panting our way to the number 11 bus stop after cutting things as fine as we dare at The Hairy Hounds. It’s not a pretty sight. I hate leaving gigs early but like you say the downside is having to sell a kidney just to get home…

    Hope the ‘dislocation’ is getting better.
    x

  2. Russ L said, on 5 August, 2010 at 7:15 am

    It’s not really a dilemma for me, as such – apart from in rare circumstances, the taxi isn’t an option. Still bloody annoying, though. It used to be so simple before the licensing laws changed – gigs were done by eleven at practically all venues.

    Ah well. Let’s see how I (we?) get on at the Silver Apples do tonight.


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