Blue Wall – Vivers

Oi Brideshead! Oi Haircut 100! And so on. This clean scrubbed, preppy young three-piece are Blue Wall, and they have dressed very sensibly for the hot weather. The singer tells us a great anecdote: “I saw Cryptasize two weeks ago. They were very good. So I’m looking forward to seeing them again later.” Okay, moratorium on reflex slagging of the posh and the bland (until next time). Blue Wall have tunes to match their nice hair, all crisp guitar lines and ’80s white bot indie, just ripe for a ‘diluted Orange Juice’ joke. Their last two songs go some way to knocking the dull on the head, a little jerky urgency breathing fresh air into this lifeless shitbox venue.

Means Heinz – Saesneg

So, if a bomb hit Buffalo now (not a bad thing, as long as me and anyone I like is not here) would Gwdihw be starved of bands to play acoustic sets? Only joshing, tho’ Steve Baboo has played there on more than one occasion, and Huw Evans is known to DJ there once, or… twice? Cate Le Bon is here too – its like a Cardiff supergroup and its all very psychedlic – if I was to be a lazy journalist (and god, at 9.30pm on a Wednesday night I can emphasise) I’d make some comparison to Velvet Underground, or Mercury Rev but that would be wrong. They’re a bit more like early Sonic Youth in how Cate’s vocals are droney and salty and melt away into the phonics in-that-words-are-their-own-instrument style, making a rather aggreable dirge that silks over the crowd in a familiar and more than competant cloth like fashion. And here’s a fact: more people watched Means Heinz than any of the other bands. Because they’z reallz nicz guyz.

Jesus H. Foxx – Vivers

Jesus H. Foxx are a strange amalgamation of bits and pieces. Amongst the seven-piece you will find: two drummers, three guitarists, bad teeth, funny hair, the tall ,the squat, a xylophone and a T-shirt with a giant scary drawing of Ian Curtis on it. Their music is a similarly strange brew of off-mic harmonies, post rock fiddling, cult folkiness and homemade cutesiness. For the most part, it’s a delightful, intricate mess, the pieces sliding together at just the right endearing level. People who should later go home and kill themselves watch a band who resemble a more shambolic Rosie Taylor Project, or a more, er, Scottish Papas Fritas. You heard.

Cryptacize – Saesneg

(Note to self: must not mention I fancied the lead girl a bit. Musn’t.)

This is like Beach House – it’s very dreamy and they have a dream machine keyboard which makes snooze snooze snooze (not in a bad way) melodies that point me in the direction of my teddy bear and say: Saesneg, give it a cuddle. They’re awesome like BH, but they don’t have the crushingly depressing bits, which stops me from listening to BH public. In fact when they play Green Man this year I’m going to wear blinkers to pretend no one else is there so I don’t have to deal with the discomfort. In contrast this lot are uplifting and cheersome, and do something to those attending, some of whom are (gosh) dancing?. Maybe it’s fairy dust, maybe it’s the fact that the LEAD SINGER IS AWESOME!!!!!!!

Oh god. I’m so sorry.

I really fancy her. This isn’t the only reason why I like Cryptacize. But if they started performing Billy Bragg covers I would still come and see them. If they didn’t even play music and threw shit into the crowd at Buffalo (again, not a bad thing) I would still see them. It’s like that. That’s how it is. This is the real world. Deal with it.

Buffalo Bar – Saesneg

I think this place deserves a review of its own. Tonight, it sucked.

Yeah I know it always sucks, but tonight people insisted on talking.

Yes, yes I know they always insist on talking, but tonight, dammit, tonight they talked at the sound desk, at the bar, at the door and even right at the front of the gig. Which meant that during Jesus H. Foxx and Cryptacize’s quieter parts I was instead hearing people’s shitty tales of crap nights. Not what I paid £5 for. And it meant guys who had come a long way from the states and elsewhere had to compete with selfish tossers who thought no one had came to actually hear the bands.

This, the stupid drinks prices (£3+ for a Stella? You’re not having any more of my money), the What the Fuck sign that never gets any the more loathsome, the crap décor, the rude staff and upstairs bar that doesn’t open when the bands start, marks out Buffalo as Cardiff’s Worst Venue. Frankly we’ve given good reviews to bands at Buffalo because the promoters (Loose, Lesson No.1, et al) are brilliant anyway and could put on good gigs in a sewer if they were forced to. Bands that have impressed have done in-spite of the venue and we often leave out, with the exception of Matt’s last review, the shit that you have to deal with to enjoy an act at Buffalo.

I know why there are a lot of acts on here and not elsewhere at the moment. I understand the reasons. But I’m sorry – its still a crap situation.