04/09/2008
I’m pretty certain I harbour haughty delusions that “music” can be neatly defined, wrapped in a bow and held up as a yard stick to which all sounds are judged. However, fabulously moustachioed opener, Goodiepal, seems to have the sole mission of lining up all our musical preconceptions one by one and questioning them thoroughly until they lie deflated and confused on the floor. For half an hour he strides manically around various items of musical paraphernalia fastidiously arranged on a large wooden table, whilst excitedly spewing a diatribe that continuously branches off on ever jumbled digressions. Attempts to follow his ranting are foiled further by the eerie drones of a drummer and a vocalist that in parts, completely drown out the un-miked speaker.
Shit and Shine have forged a reputation transfixing audiences with dramatic, building sets that weave layers of exquisite electronic chaos into pounding mesmeric rhythms. Tonight they grapple the floor with as much sincerity as a band wearing blue masks and rabbit ears can muster. Sweeping away the builds, they crash straight in with thunderously rampant drums that wrestle destructively with big, fuzz fuelled guitars. The tones of a clarinet screeching over the top make this first section reminiscent of a super fuzzed Mudhoney, who have transcended their fear of death and hurtle manic and unconstrained towards a distant cliff edge. As the set progresses, guitars give way to prolapsing synth über bass which serves as a backing for a slow deterioration into psychedelica; the clarinettist has merged with his instrument, now hanging from his face like a trunk, trumpeting out spasmodic noises. As everything resolves with breath taking awe, there’s little doubt that Shit and Shine are one of the most exciting and captivating experimental bands in the country, nay, the world at the moment.
Despite having only two remaining founding members, there’s always a huge anticipation around seeing Faust. For a band that has done so much to aid the progression of music, it was quite disappointing that there was less of a shine about them and more of a... (well, I won’t insult anyone’s intelligence by completing that sentence). Headed by new member Geraldine Swayne, a softer feminine energy gives their sound a fresh new face, yet one that quickly becomes slightly dull – dull enough to half the size of an already apathetic audience within 15 minutes. New track Fresh Air starts nowhere and tails off from there, and their catalogue of driving classics has been replaced by faux-art improvisation in which cringe inducing sentiments are muttered over the sound of tearing paper. Perhaps it’s their expectation that is ultimately their downfall. Whatever it is, tonight’s performance saw the krautrock baton ceremoniously passed to along to the more musically virile clatters of Shit and Shine. Words: Simon Jablonski
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