Distracted by the glorious sunshine on the seafront, and the sudden unfurling of a Brighton desperate to be free of the shackles of winter, we arrive later than planned and just in time to catch the end of Triple Drain who playing a riotous Babes in Toyland style noise. Shame we didn’t see more!!! The little we catch sounds glorious.
crysometimes have a very radio friendly pop rock sound. They could easily have played ‘Hot Boyfriend’ in the Bronze during an episode of Buffy while our favourite Slayer danced with one of her vampire beaus. It’s not quite a sound for these ears but they do it very well, and it could perhaps take them far. Just to call us out as the mardy old Sunnydale loving has-beens we are, they then sing a song referencing the Twilight movies.
Francis Pig however pull us in from the bar with some psycho candy era Mary Chain guitar. Simple chords distorted and fuzzed over throbbing Dane Electro bass and a drum machine. This is exactly the kind of music that probes deep and finds this writer’s mythical musical g spot and tickles it hard. They look fabulous; they play it mean and they play it dirty, but they stay just the right side of going too far, so that it actually is gloriously debauched and sexy. This show is exactly one year from their first gig, and it sounds perfect. As ‘Sex Talk’ hits we are dancing like it’s 3am and we’re high as a kite. New single ‘Daddy Said’ is pure unadulterated filth with a chorus involving pigs. Perfect.
Equally impressive, but in a very different way is Cordelia Gartside. A slow droney wailing start builds into a maelstrom of guitar. Like a slightly more theatrical ‘Bends’ era Radiohead fronted by the wide eyed love child of Freddy mercury and Kate Bush. The sounds is a touch to echoey but the dynamics still shine through, from light jazzy and folky flourishes through to heavy epic rock on the flip of the beat. Tom’s bass playing regularly hits a classic 70s rock stride as ‘Good’ brings the set to a close.
Room Service launch with a slice of crooner pop. Their yacht rock eighties sound is really starting to settle in and find its groove, and Helena grows in confidence as a charismatic front lady. The Plastic Cosmic Fantastic Hotel is a light funk party starter that could soundtrack the best bit of a million wedding receptions if there is any justice, and readers beware, that note was written before the slap bass solo and frenzied call and response ending. A very dirty ‘Hot Dog’ adds to the fire in the perfectly sequenced set, with aural mustard and onions all over our face.
A rolling perfectly braggadocio drum beat launches Car Boot Sale into a storm of Stonesy guitars. It’s not complicated. It’s not especially clever but it’s good time guaranteed kick butt rock n roll. It provides a fine way to dance off the delight of the ever wonderful Alushi’s kebab we have just devoured between the bands. The band’s girlfriends are down the front having a riot dancing, which is a pleasure to see. ‘Isabel’ brings a sing along before ‘Miss It’ delivers a classic monster riff that gets the room grooving.
Porchlight‘s first song ‘Shiftstep’ surfs a wave of chaos as drum machines fly everywhere, before ‘Spin Doctor’ settles into a Squid loving punk funk rhythm. Notes are skittering all over place, and at points it’s more electronica than rock with a full deep ambient breakdown in the middle of the set. It’s an interesting brew that has a driving intensity under its precociousness.
“Ok. Ready when you are” and one of the best frontmen we’ve ever seen takes to the stage. Guy McKnight, formally of Eighties Matchbox fame, with his latest band The DSM IV. Synths flourish and electronic rhythms pulsate, under some cracking guitar from Jade who draws ferocious sounds from one of the messiest pedal boards we have ever tried to guitar nerd. His the drums have been removed from stage giving Guy full space to deliver an unhinged performance. There is a reason this band have named themselves after a diagnostic guide to mental health. Musically it’s an alternative eighties sound; like a dance 12 inch remix of early Sisters of Mercy. ‘Killing Your Time’ is a perfect example and draws the crowd forward. We find ourselves down the front with Francis Pig having it.
A Blue Mondayesque beat fills the room and the London residing band Baba Ali take to stage dripping New York cool and nonchalance. Funnily we discover the singer actually is from New York, but it is the guitarist, who carries that the distinctive CBGB air. It becomes a slick and deep performance that echo Algiers and LCD Soundsystem. It draws on the cramps and is the last in line of some really exceptional nasty guitar playing throughout the day. As a package they also get that Sheffield sound of Cabaret Voltaire that triangulates with a strange cellar in Eighties Berlin. They finish on Black Wagon which adds some clubby vibes.
Hidden Herd All-Dayer
Green Door Store – Saturday 1st March
Words – Nick McAllister
Photos – Stan O’Shea and 16 Beasley Street
