Vivers: Mark Foley has height. Yer Music Box man occupies the bass position in Strange News From Another Star, standing on two wedged together chairs, to get a good view of people talking at the back. Except Strange News play music that in a just world would atomise these scoundrels, or at least get them nodding at the front: hard rocking prison sex numbers that take the fun and screaming from AC/DC and the Dirtbombs and stomp it around for a good ol’ time. You’d wanna be in their chain gang.
InteriorMonologue: Strange News started with technical difficulties this evening, the first of which was Jimmy needing a piss. His brave decision to go for triple denim seemed to weigh heavily too. The band weren’t as loose as usual and seemed to struggle a bit early on, pulled it back later though. Denim power.
Vivers: This night must be overrunning a smidgen – slightly weird to see Zail cut off each song at the four minute mark, like a thunderstorm blowing itself out. Still out and out triumphant though, John’s drums rumbling and whip crack sharp, Sam’s guitar to match, tearing chunks of noise then snapping back to rhythm. Top drawer instrumental postness, with near constant eye contact and a fullness of sound undiminished by the sight of two seated skinny men on stage.
InteriorMonologue: It’s the first time I’ve seen Zail and if I wasn’t watching them then I’d swear there were more than two of them. Drummer. Guitarist. Although I swear I could here a cello somewhere. And bass. Not sure how they do this but their 2 man post-rock was fucking brilliant.
Vivers: The Buffalo finally gets the band it deserves. Kong are grotesque, awkward, ugly and paunchy, audio and visual fusing in a vomitous mess of screamo spazz rock, drawn on red T-shirts and burnt mannequin face masks. An alien race that looked and sounded like this would take over. Kong are pretty brutal in their attempt to put several slippery eels up your bum, and rock in an enjoyably nightmarish way, skronky and hard and brilliant. Points off for spitting on the floor though. Except we don’t give points.
InteriorMonolgue: It’s 9.42am and I’m in work. I’m talking too loudly. My ears are still ringing. Amazing band and truly scary at the same time. The singer Jon-Lee’s mask made him look like Steve Coogan playing numberwang on his guitar. The bassist, with his grinning plastic face and blue eye shadow, is not a vision I want cropping up in nightmares. Especially in his pants.
