Now I know it is rather indulgent to review the same band in back-to-back issues but you know what, fuck off. I Like Cats are just that good that I feel justified in giving them such preferential treatment. But, before I start ranting about their show let me first tell you about Grannyfist.
A four piece made up of Granny on vocals, mouth and shit (verbatim from their MySpace), Saint Fistopher on drums, anus and sperm, Papa Wristdeep on bass, vagina and urine and Fist Fistopherson guitar, penis and vomit, Grannyfist are possibly the most offensive band to grace the stage since Jet.
Their set opened with Granny writhing around with a plastic bag over his face screaming “GET YOUR FIST OUT OF MY ASS!” over and over again, while the band ferociously bludgeoned their instruments into a frenzy of Death Metal.
Other highlights of the band’s explosive set included such memorable choruses as Can You Suck The Cock From Beyond The Grave? Eating Santa’s Shit and who could forget their blistering closer Getting A Blowjob From A Gay Hooker In The Back Alley. Basically they are the best band I’ve seen all year.
But the mind-boggling strangeness didn’t stop there. The club was some relic of the 80s, decked out with tacky beige walls, wood panelling and giant posters of travel destinations on the wall. When I first arrived they were blasting Usher and Beyonce at about 120 decibels, which then changed to Death Metal, then back to R’n’B before taking a left turn at the idea of consistency, cracking out the smoke machine and lasers, and pumping out some filthy trance. There were a few people dancing, but the reality of people going out of their way to come to this anachronistic basement and dance with two other people while lasers shoot across the otherwise empty room was far too depressing for me to consider for any length of time.
In stark contrast to this, I Like Cats (who had been moved to the headlining slot after the promoter actually heard Grannyfist) had packed out the tiny room in the back of La Campana, which was buzzing with the chatter of Cats fans. The room was heavy with anticipation as the band walked out, and we were greeted with a warm wall of shoegaze-post-stoner-rock.
Carnivale breezed through the audience, as it’s melancholic country laced guitars bounced between slow builds, bouncy choruses and kidney rupturing crescendos. Painting Fences was anther highlight, starting up with some very Tool influenced guitar and bass lines. Rollo Augustus Anderson delivered his quirky vocals with a shaky aplomb, spitting forth such memorable lines as “you can be the infidel, I can be the infrared,” before the band dropped into the colossal riff that closes the song.
Cellist Dominic Mercer once again gave the band its melodic balance, countering the distorted and scratchy guitars with the warm resonance of his knee-bound instrument, and really pulling their sound together into a cohesive sonic-donkeypunch.
Their set closed with The Year Before You Were Born, opening with bassist Gonzalez’ delicate yet triumphant bass line which is left to simmer amongst the filthy guitars. Anderson delivered his delicate and whimsical vocals with a consistency lacking in the other songs. They then launched into their chaotic, distorted, powerful outro, with drummer William Newton Johnston felching forth a mind jarring cacophony of skin smacking.
They’ve finally put up a MySpace (although they have insisted I point out the recordings are dodgy bedroom sessions with no cello that will soon be replaced with proper studio sessions) so check them out at http://www.myspace.com/ilikecatstheband