It’s a Sunday and I’m going to church. Admittedly to drink beer. Tonight is my first time in The Gate in Roath and I’m not sure what to expect. What I get is a café bar with reasonably priced bottled beer, a man in a Poison The Well t-shirt and a venue with a space set aside for bumper cars.
I should probably explain. The church pews are still in place upstairs in The Gate so there’s great big open, ummm, dancefloor in front of the stage which nobody is brave enough to fill for the support band. I briefly debated taking my shoes off, hurdling the barrier and skidding across like a 9 year old at a wedding but thought better of it.
Anyway, music, The Rayographs took the stage looking like the wanted to be the backing singers in a 60’s beat combo. They fucked this idea right off by launching into a rather marvellous swirling, sinister beast of a first song. It’s brooding post-rock-esque guitar and bass would unfortunately remain untopped for the rest of the set but it was really fucking good. During the rest of the songs they sounded in turns like Throwing Muses, Pretty Girls Make Graves and Pod era Breeders (mainly the spooky backing vocals). They also played surf guitar and thrashed about with dirty garage riffery. I liked them but felt if they concentrated on one genre a bit more they might be able to make me love them.
A Hawk And A Hacksaw. Really folky. Yeah, I knew what they sounded like before I saw them, this wasn’t a surprise. Their multi instrumental, eastern European folk was a sight to behold. Mandolin, fiddle, trumpet an an accordion played that was the spitting image of The Killers’ Brandon Flowers. He used to be in Neutral Milk Hotel you know, they were ace. The also had a singer. AH&AH don’t and I’m an old school sucker for lyrics. Or so I thought. As I was trading texts comparing other band members to Lou Reed, Laura Cantrell and a cross between Ed Stringfellow and Dan from Lone Pine, I realised that this band were wildly entertaining. They sensed my newfound enthusiasm and advanced to halfway down the dodgem arena and played directly at the hardy souls that had nicked prayer cusions and sat on the floor. This then prompted some very entertaining folk dancing from audience members. This wasn’t supposed to happen, folk is grown up and serious. Everybody knows that. Even when one of the instruments is a cross between a bong and a 18th century rifle and is played only by the mind. Probably. The only person not smiling by the end was the fat guy stuffing a Chinese down himself in the front row. I assume he was their driver or something. I hope he was their driver or something.
