Vivers: Only four bands tonight? Fucking pussies. Er, anyway, welcome to Day 8 of Mezefest, the festival which if nothing else illustrates how many different ways you can play the post rock. Cat Matador‘s route is quieter than most, picking their way through songs made of skeletal guitar wrapped in violin. It’s a steely approach that pays dividends, especially with final song ‘Eyes’, where a droned-out intro gives way to fizzing, keening theatrics. Lovely.
InteriorMonologue: Anyone who knows me knows that I have a thing for female violinists. I can’t help it. Cat Matador have one, as do Cats & Cats & Cats. Marvellous. I really like Cat Matador from what I’ve heard on myspace and while I like them live too, it doesn’t quite translate. It’s like they wanted to do more than is actually possible with 4 people on a stage. Also, the drummer was wearing a vest – the official singlet of Meze Festival 2009.
Vivers: Halfway through the Muscle Club‘s set two members unbutton their shirts to reveal glorious sweaty vests. It’s a heartstoppingly erotic moment on a par with slicing your knuckles on a cheesegrater. A little too easy to dismiss these Cardiff pups as a yelpy fart cloud; trouble is, there’s not much else here to suggest otherwise. Rawk meets Los Campesinos!, fully committed hollering meets terminal lack of substance. Someone mentions the resemblance between the bassist and a Frankie Goes To Hollywood, uh, member. Please, please, please Muscle Club, for your next gig include a fat man pissing on you. Would go down well in Buffalo.
InteriorMonolgue: Fuck me, Vivers clearly had some angry pills slipped into his slightly weird tasting Tuborg before The Muscle Club hit the stage. Admittedly this isn’t the best I’ve seen them but I like their brand of punky indie. Vivers’ comment of ‘Rawk meets Los Campesinos!’ is pretty spot on and I guess some people like it and some don’t. I’ve reviewed them loads before and they have developed from their Johnny Foreigner-esque beginnings. I didn’t like the first song though. And there were too many vests.
Vivers: Anyway, what place do bands like Cats & Cats & Cats spring from? Hard to believe there was a group meeting where someone said “Let’s write songs that flit between shouty post rock, thumping waltz number, jinking indie and clattering noise every thirty seconds, with a load of violin on top. It’ll be great.” Such mutant unruliness comes from nowhere: they sound like themselves and this a very good thing. Cats x 3 (as I like to call them) may sound deceptively shambolic, but their chewy sugar rush gives me headaches in a good way.
InteriorMonologue: I agree with everything Vivers said. I’ve booked Cats & Cats & Cats before and they were brilliant then too. The difference this time is that word has sneaked out and there were more people there to appreciate their other wordly brilliance. A man not too disassociated with this site said ‘he can’t sing, it sounds like hell’. Honestly, he knows nothing and that why we don’t let him write reviews. No vests.
Vivers: Occasional Joy Collective writer Scotty‘s opinion of Maybeshewill after five seconds: “No.” (Walks off) Occasional Joy Collective writer Scotty’s opinion of Maybeshewill at end of gig: “That was great!” What what what? Maybeshewill seem determined to adulterate their (you guessed it) post rock with dollops of metal and laptop beats, a process that sometimes yields lumpy results but mostly works towards punching you nicely in the bloody gut. They snake a big sample from the film Network into one song, elsewhere computer skitters make like 65daysofstatic. Fine credentials then, to go with the drummer’s fine BIG HEADPHONES, meaning all’s eventually, pretty fine. (Apart from the drummer’s headphones. I was lying, they look rubbish)
InteriorMonolgue: Maybeshewill did something I’ve never seen in Meze Lounge before, they converted the talking people by the bar. Once the Cardiff posse buggered off after Cats’ set, Maybeshewill were left with half a dozen people eagerly awaiting their epic (but not post) instrumental rock. This was down to 5 about 20 seconds in. Gradually though, their sheer wall of sound (but lack of murdering actresses) drew the uninitiated into the throng. They ended with about 35 people wondering why they were standing by the stage. Fantastic. No vests.
