Domeyko/Gonzalez started things up with an uncharacteristically noisy set to complement the other acts on the bill. Their sets are always different depending on the arena in which they exhibit them, but still this performance was by far their most angry and least ambient to date.
Starting with waves of distortion and fuzz so loud it sent almost everybody in the room not there to see the band packing right smart, the incomprehensible racket then melded into a tight and danceable guitar riff complemented by a beat so tasty it would make most cheesemongers squeal in glee. The set then pulsed it’s way through a variety of shifting tones and textures including some gothic synth loops and Nintendo DS chaos pad stylings before finally ending in a twisted noise experiment that forced the less dedicated of the few still left back to the bar.
Because of the rubbish sound a lot of the dynamics of what was going on was lost and you sort of had to watch what the band were doing to get even half an idea of what was going on, however seeing as though that’s still more of an idea than the band usually have, it sort of worked. Speaking to the band before the show I learnt that this was to be their most planned set so far to date, with their performances usually involving more improvisation than anything else.
This constraint, if you will, showed during the set, as instead of letting things naturally develop the boys were obviously working to a pre-established notion of what they wanted to play, which in my view meant the music lost most of it’s ‘of the moment’ appeal. This band are at their best when at their most longwinded and esoteric. Check out the video on their MySpace of the hour long set they did for us at The Abercrombie last year.
Silver Moon were next up and they were a band brutally raped by the bad sound. Not having seen them before I can’t really comment on what it was supposed to sound like but going from what I’ve heard on their MySpace this particular performance lacked that certain sonic fuzziness that glues the separate parts into one.
They played incredibly, with the two guitarists and bassist hacking at their instruments like gangrenous limbs, churning out vicious blues-punk with shades of shoegaze (albeit shades of shoegaze that were somewhat lost from the aforementioned sound problems and lack of volume). The vocals were the worst affected though, being all but completely lost in the mix, and regrettably without the added layer of rhythm from the singer the music did get a bit repetitive.
Be sure to check these guys out on MySpace as well they are awesome, the sort of furious music best accompanied by bourbon in a dirty glass, sweat and a bit of mild violence.
Warhorse’s set can really only be described through frenzied dance, however that method is not available to me so words will have to do. Opening with a cover of ‘Human Cannonball’ by the Butthole Surfers, Warhorse proceeded to thrash the shit out of all their instruments with very little regard for their own well being, or anyone else’s for that matter. Frontman Jasper Clifford Smith did more than his fair share of damage to the crowd and foldbacks as they moved into their second song, ‘Fucked Cunts Get Fucked’.
This band are shit, but in the best kind of way, the kind of what where they can almost do anything on stage and it still works ’cause of the energy they do it with and the sheer savagery of how they do it. The whole affair was a very sweat drenched journey to the heart of what makes Rock n Roll great: swagger. Anton Newcombe eat your heart out, Warhorse know how to fucking party. My highlight was the thirty second filthy scuzz punk rendition of ‘Knights Of Cydonia’, which was only made funnier by the fact that Jasper actually likes that fucking song and they pretty much murdered it…
I only saw a bit of Zeahorse’s set. Having been added to the line-up last minute I wasn’t even aware they were playing till the night, but what I did see was what I expected, a solid set of 90’s drenched psychedelic grunge glory. Great band, well worth seeing but a little hard to cop the volume after throwing up in the women’s toilet.
So yeah, great gig, but fuck World Bar after 9:30 – so many fuckwits, so little space to escape.