Post by Admin on Jul 19, 2011 10:31:26 GMT -5
Matter of Distance, Wrecked 'Em, ctrlaltdelete, SecondToLast
By David Douglas
The Brickyard, Carlisle. Saturday 13th September 2003
As well as local bands Second to Last and ctrlaltdelete, the ear-hungry public of Carlisle were able to bare witness to Wrecked ‘Em and Matter of Distance, starring Ben’s (ctrlaltdelete) brother Joe from Cambridge. Was this going to be a night to remember? (Ooooh, suspense, just like in a Stephen King novel).
I got to the Brickyard just in time, Second to Last had finished pissing about with their machines of music and were just set to play. A beautiful little introduction begins while my mate gets the drinks in and I waste no time at all in settling down on an uncomfy bench and taking heed of what is about to come.
There’s nothing like the first time you hear a band that startles you. And sometimes, you just don’t expect something like that when you’re going to a gig in Carlisle. But Second to Last really do startle you when you first hear them. Either that, or they repel you with a violent ferocity.The questions are always there, does Emo exist? Is punk dead? What makes one hardcore punk band more hardcore than a punk band? Such questions and labelling are not needed tonight. Second to Last play their music down to the grind. They rub like sandpaper on your cock and they scream like a man on fire. Emotional, powerful and stuffed to the core with “I couldn’t give a fuck what you like” they push the boat out and hope the fucker sinks.
Alex leaps around as usual, pogo sticks were not invented for this boy but fingers definitely were as they fly from string to string. He’d be a wizz with chop sticks. Lee has the most energy though, walking up and down the stage like the man about town, in charge, king of the hill. His singing capacity seemed to wane a little once Alex took over. They both sang with definite involvement, but Lee seemed to force it a little. It wasn’t the roar it could have been, but it was still a territorial cry. The stage belonged to Second to Last at that moment, and no-one would dare go up there. Especially with Greg closest to the stairs. He looked mean, almost in involved in some sort of angry meditation, just carefully watching the amp and ignoring the audience.
Second To Last manage to forge melody with dislocated anger, to the convenience of ears everywhere.
‘ere’s another band that do the same. (Did you see the link there? Seamless) ctrlaltdelete continue to rise above every past gig, making each before pale in comparison. I’ve raved about them before, but after seeing them tonight, the last gigs were shit. You know that people are truly enjoying a band when people’s feet are still tapping once a song has finished (I noticed this with Second to Last as well). The audience roared their approval after every song, more so than anyone else on the night, and rightly so.
Ben flung himself (and the microphone stand) around the stage for the first time ever, and his face was a picture, many pictures, each picture depicting a man with a guitar churning his face and biting his lip like he was entering the vinegar strokes*. Laura sat peaky and perky (Not pinky mind, guffaw!) pushing her bass to the full extent of the law. Chris slammed his drums like a man with a vendetta. Against drums. It sounded so beautiful.
As well as playing the currently available E.P tracks, they played a variety of others that may or may not have names. Names don’t matter. This band does. If you haven’t heard them, you suck. For money.
Second to Last, Ketamine, ctrlaltdelete, they’re the “must see” bands you need to put on your list. Go make a list.
The time at Chem19 studios has obviously done ctrlaltdelete well, under the supervision of Andy of Chem19 they‘ve managed to grow in entertainment value, musical wealth and… Ye Gods, did Ben speak!? The times are changing kids, as old people say. The times are changing.
They played with little-to-no faults and they looked so happy to be there. The stage was built for man to perform. Fantastic, beautiful. A free-form love affair with intelligence and ethereal highs.
Will there be a peak though? Will they finally reach the dreaded plateau? Only time will tell, as old people say. Only time will tell.
Wrecked ‘em were up next (It’s like Rectum you see, which is a name for your bum, only it’s spelt different to make a different word. Word play that is). A Ska band from the sunny isle of Cambridge. Now I like my Ska I do, from the street-edge of Sublime to the silly jostling of the early Mad Caddies. Now, both the bands mentioned there were American bands, and to my knowledge, most “famous” Ska bands are from America, so, is this why Wrecked ‘em looked like they’d just turned up from California?
Blue hair, baggy pants, beanies, bras. All the fashion sense of an American is there, the voice (more on that later), the stage presence. Everything and everyone on stage at this point looked American, except the top half of the saxophonist and the drummer, who looked more English than anyone else in the Brickyard with his half-open mouth, podgy tummy and Iron Maiden T-shirt. Send him to an England match and they’d mistake him for Beckham.
Ska has to be captured in the right atmosphere. It’s not something that can be imported without taking some bruises. Wrecked ‘em really did put the effort in, but the finished product really did show that you can polish a turd, wrap it up and send it to your mum for Christmas. And the singers voice! I thought he was singing the Um Bongo theme tune. In every song!
The highlight, I have to say, was the saxophone. The saxophone is almost never the high point of a set, unless you’re a saxophonist yourself (which I’m not). But it really did play a greater part. She captured the sunshine amongst rough clouds that were floating about her. Ska is something that you can have fun with. With songs declared to “The shit state of pop music”, they tried that but it really didn’t kick off. In most cases, it left people thinking, “were they taking the piss there?”.
Flashback: “I bet Ben’s brother is like, an evil twisted version of Ben, who has an evil goatie beard and who plays evil music, like, backwards ctrlaltdelete or something”. Oh, it produced much laughter in the pub before hand, and even more laughter when we realised we were right (bar the backwards ctrlaltdelete bit). But the question is, which is the evil twin? Or perhaps, who was adopted?
Matter of Distance weren’t the worst of the night. They patched up the gap between the hardcore edge of ctrlaltdelete and the ska bounce of Wrecked ‘em, and really should have been third on stage. The crowds had all but disappeared by the time they got up there, which is a real shame because they came all the way up here. The fact that people in Carlisle moan that nothing ever comes this way, then they leave before the visitors have even finished leaves something to be desired. But anyway, rant rant rant.
First off, the lead singer was almost painful to hear. Not so much as say TaunTra‘s demo, but still, it was off-key through out most songs. Between songs he kept putting on a cockney accent that put me off even more. Was it nerves? Perhaps, so I’ll reserve my qualms until I hear a CD of sorts.
One thing about Ska is that the bass can be it’s most powerful tool. Unfortunately for Joe, he was barely audible. Watching his hands stray from fret to fret, I could imagine that it sounded quite good, but my ears, alas, had to go without knowing. Joe’s singing even seemed more competent than that of the lead singer.
The stage presence was standard fare, the effort was there, in parts. But that isn‘t enough really. At school, I used to always think, wouldn‘t it be better getting F for effort and A+ for results? Because then you know you can always do better. Maybe that‘s a stupid thought though. To be honest there’s not much more I can say beyond that. It wasn’t generic. It wasn’t boring. It was just sad to see an opportunity so sadly rendered. If it was all caused by nerves, then I can understand, but that’s something that you have to get used to in the music game, and it’s something that you’ll get at every gig you go to in “foreign landscapes”.
So a night of two halves then, two very different halves in very different ways. A night of contrasts let’s say. Or let’s not, because I think everyone gets the picture anyone. And what was my highlight? Seeing Greg attack graffiti with his keys in the toilet. If ever a true man be born, surely he be that man.
* Vinegar strokes: The face that a man pulls a few seconds before ejaculation during intercourse, like the face you pull when you drink vinegar.
By David Douglas
The Brickyard, Carlisle. Saturday 13th September 2003
As well as local bands Second to Last and ctrlaltdelete, the ear-hungry public of Carlisle were able to bare witness to Wrecked ‘Em and Matter of Distance, starring Ben’s (ctrlaltdelete) brother Joe from Cambridge. Was this going to be a night to remember? (Ooooh, suspense, just like in a Stephen King novel).
I got to the Brickyard just in time, Second to Last had finished pissing about with their machines of music and were just set to play. A beautiful little introduction begins while my mate gets the drinks in and I waste no time at all in settling down on an uncomfy bench and taking heed of what is about to come.
There’s nothing like the first time you hear a band that startles you. And sometimes, you just don’t expect something like that when you’re going to a gig in Carlisle. But Second to Last really do startle you when you first hear them. Either that, or they repel you with a violent ferocity.The questions are always there, does Emo exist? Is punk dead? What makes one hardcore punk band more hardcore than a punk band? Such questions and labelling are not needed tonight. Second to Last play their music down to the grind. They rub like sandpaper on your cock and they scream like a man on fire. Emotional, powerful and stuffed to the core with “I couldn’t give a fuck what you like” they push the boat out and hope the fucker sinks.
Alex leaps around as usual, pogo sticks were not invented for this boy but fingers definitely were as they fly from string to string. He’d be a wizz with chop sticks. Lee has the most energy though, walking up and down the stage like the man about town, in charge, king of the hill. His singing capacity seemed to wane a little once Alex took over. They both sang with definite involvement, but Lee seemed to force it a little. It wasn’t the roar it could have been, but it was still a territorial cry. The stage belonged to Second to Last at that moment, and no-one would dare go up there. Especially with Greg closest to the stairs. He looked mean, almost in involved in some sort of angry meditation, just carefully watching the amp and ignoring the audience.
Second To Last manage to forge melody with dislocated anger, to the convenience of ears everywhere.
‘ere’s another band that do the same. (Did you see the link there? Seamless) ctrlaltdelete continue to rise above every past gig, making each before pale in comparison. I’ve raved about them before, but after seeing them tonight, the last gigs were shit. You know that people are truly enjoying a band when people’s feet are still tapping once a song has finished (I noticed this with Second to Last as well). The audience roared their approval after every song, more so than anyone else on the night, and rightly so.
Ben flung himself (and the microphone stand) around the stage for the first time ever, and his face was a picture, many pictures, each picture depicting a man with a guitar churning his face and biting his lip like he was entering the vinegar strokes*. Laura sat peaky and perky (Not pinky mind, guffaw!) pushing her bass to the full extent of the law. Chris slammed his drums like a man with a vendetta. Against drums. It sounded so beautiful.
As well as playing the currently available E.P tracks, they played a variety of others that may or may not have names. Names don’t matter. This band does. If you haven’t heard them, you suck. For money.
Second to Last, Ketamine, ctrlaltdelete, they’re the “must see” bands you need to put on your list. Go make a list.
The time at Chem19 studios has obviously done ctrlaltdelete well, under the supervision of Andy of Chem19 they‘ve managed to grow in entertainment value, musical wealth and… Ye Gods, did Ben speak!? The times are changing kids, as old people say. The times are changing.
They played with little-to-no faults and they looked so happy to be there. The stage was built for man to perform. Fantastic, beautiful. A free-form love affair with intelligence and ethereal highs.
Will there be a peak though? Will they finally reach the dreaded plateau? Only time will tell, as old people say. Only time will tell.
Wrecked ‘em were up next (It’s like Rectum you see, which is a name for your bum, only it’s spelt different to make a different word. Word play that is). A Ska band from the sunny isle of Cambridge. Now I like my Ska I do, from the street-edge of Sublime to the silly jostling of the early Mad Caddies. Now, both the bands mentioned there were American bands, and to my knowledge, most “famous” Ska bands are from America, so, is this why Wrecked ‘em looked like they’d just turned up from California?
Blue hair, baggy pants, beanies, bras. All the fashion sense of an American is there, the voice (more on that later), the stage presence. Everything and everyone on stage at this point looked American, except the top half of the saxophonist and the drummer, who looked more English than anyone else in the Brickyard with his half-open mouth, podgy tummy and Iron Maiden T-shirt. Send him to an England match and they’d mistake him for Beckham.
Ska has to be captured in the right atmosphere. It’s not something that can be imported without taking some bruises. Wrecked ‘em really did put the effort in, but the finished product really did show that you can polish a turd, wrap it up and send it to your mum for Christmas. And the singers voice! I thought he was singing the Um Bongo theme tune. In every song!
The highlight, I have to say, was the saxophone. The saxophone is almost never the high point of a set, unless you’re a saxophonist yourself (which I’m not). But it really did play a greater part. She captured the sunshine amongst rough clouds that were floating about her. Ska is something that you can have fun with. With songs declared to “The shit state of pop music”, they tried that but it really didn’t kick off. In most cases, it left people thinking, “were they taking the piss there?”.
Flashback: “I bet Ben’s brother is like, an evil twisted version of Ben, who has an evil goatie beard and who plays evil music, like, backwards ctrlaltdelete or something”. Oh, it produced much laughter in the pub before hand, and even more laughter when we realised we were right (bar the backwards ctrlaltdelete bit). But the question is, which is the evil twin? Or perhaps, who was adopted?
Matter of Distance weren’t the worst of the night. They patched up the gap between the hardcore edge of ctrlaltdelete and the ska bounce of Wrecked ‘em, and really should have been third on stage. The crowds had all but disappeared by the time they got up there, which is a real shame because they came all the way up here. The fact that people in Carlisle moan that nothing ever comes this way, then they leave before the visitors have even finished leaves something to be desired. But anyway, rant rant rant.
First off, the lead singer was almost painful to hear. Not so much as say TaunTra‘s demo, but still, it was off-key through out most songs. Between songs he kept putting on a cockney accent that put me off even more. Was it nerves? Perhaps, so I’ll reserve my qualms until I hear a CD of sorts.
One thing about Ska is that the bass can be it’s most powerful tool. Unfortunately for Joe, he was barely audible. Watching his hands stray from fret to fret, I could imagine that it sounded quite good, but my ears, alas, had to go without knowing. Joe’s singing even seemed more competent than that of the lead singer.
The stage presence was standard fare, the effort was there, in parts. But that isn‘t enough really. At school, I used to always think, wouldn‘t it be better getting F for effort and A+ for results? Because then you know you can always do better. Maybe that‘s a stupid thought though. To be honest there’s not much more I can say beyond that. It wasn’t generic. It wasn’t boring. It was just sad to see an opportunity so sadly rendered. If it was all caused by nerves, then I can understand, but that’s something that you have to get used to in the music game, and it’s something that you’ll get at every gig you go to in “foreign landscapes”.
So a night of two halves then, two very different halves in very different ways. A night of contrasts let’s say. Or let’s not, because I think everyone gets the picture anyone. And what was my highlight? Seeing Greg attack graffiti with his keys in the toilet. If ever a true man be born, surely he be that man.
* Vinegar strokes: The face that a man pulls a few seconds before ejaculation during intercourse, like the face you pull when you drink vinegar.