Shonen Knife - The Portland Arms - 11/04/2018

With the evenings still dark and the weather still heavy and wet, there are few things more fun to do on a weeknight than fit a couple hundred middle aged alternatives into the back of a pub and have them remember back to the 90s, when all the things we were angry about were so much simpler and the NME was still a thing (Ha! Die, you devil, DIE!). There is a chance that someone in that room, other than the touch-screen wielding venue technician) wasn't around when people first heard of Shonen Knife, thanks mostly to the words of Kurt Cobain, but if they were then they were nowhere near where I was standing. This was a place packed with weary travelers, making a journey after a busy day of adult things to see two sets of sprightly journeymen entertain and enliven them all. The atmosphere before the first chord was plucked was a mix of apprehensively buzzy mixed with reverent anticipation. People wanted to make a night of it, then get back home in time for the next day.

First to take the stage were the unknown quantity: The Kolars. If anyone in the audience knew them they didn't give it away, as the reception to them as they walked on stage was polite, warm, but not too personal. Both members were bedecked in sequins and 50s chic, the guitarist's hair a majestic quiff, but with enough glam and modern touches to gave nothing too much away. Then the drummer stood atop her bass drum, and people just knew this was going to be different. The first three numbers were stompingly good rockabilly, stripped down and oiled up like a modern day Cramps that grew up on Happy Days and hope. The sound was embracing, the tapdancing drummer was an excitement to watch - halfway between a go-go dancer, a cheer leader, and an honest invitation for everyone to just have a good time - the lyrics were vivid and touching, and it if that had been the next 30 minutes people would have been happy with a great novelty Rock-And-Roll act.

Instead, at song four. they knocked it up a notch and threw in a mix-tape blend of their native LA's space rock drenched in pop sensibilities to the proceedings and sat there for the rest of the set, turning the audience from welcoming observers to won-over participants. Nothing to thick or confusing, everything perfectly placed and approachable, but adding depth and colour. All of this was helped by the duo visibly having a good time, Lauren the drummer more so than the sometimes zenned out Rob, the singer guitarist. If you don't want this in your car when you're driving in the summer then you are missing a trick, and if this act doesn't get more attention then I don't know what's wrong with the world.


As good as they were, the night was always going to be for Shonen Knife and their own take on power trio punk. Sitting halfway between early Buzzcocks, later period Ramones, and what Yo Gabba Gabba could have been if it grew up on the mean streets of Osaka. This is straightforward, easy to listen to, bouncy tunes about whatever Naoko Yamano has decided to sing (it takes a lot to get a cheer from the line "This is a song about my hobby, tennis"). Given that they have been playing music, that you can easily call twee and simple as a criticism or a compliment, around the globe for over 35 years, the reaction to them walking on stage in their powerpuff girls meet early 80s glam-metal costumes was about as welcoming as you would expect.

They had nothing to prove, as everyone in the room already loved them, and very little to do other than rip through an hour of tunes with minimal pauses and almost no mucking around. There was a little banter, but it wasn't clear if the minimal discussion was because they didn't have great English skills or if they just wanted to get on with playing with as much gusto as if they had just discovered how to hit their first note. It wasn't business like or disinterested, it was just efficiently wanting to entertain and show off their latest creations along with their classics. Their mood was infectious, the crowd lapped up every moment up, and whilst the whole thing only lasted an hour it was a perfect one.

We Are Fucked - Flesh Eating Foundation

Lets not beat around the bush here, the three-piece industrial collective that is the Flesh Eating Foundation are not in a happy mode in this new album. They are most clearly fucked off, and they want to make music that reflects this. Whilst they have retained some of the beats and groove that were ever present in their previous releases, this time the sound is bigger, the crushing distortion is more encompassing, and the urgency of things just being fucked are more present than ever before. This is not a fun album, this is a collection of angry thoughts and violent noises ejected out to share the hurt. Which is a long way of saying "this is bloody good stuff."

It's also a fairly experimental album, with a lot more variety in sound and approach than previous offerings. Tempos, themes, densities, and just what can be done to a soundboard to make it cry, are all played around with in varying forms of gay abandon. Not only are you not going to get bored at any point, you are also not going to get used to the punishment being hammered into your ears. Sounds as diverse as digital hardcore, aggrotech, and even ambient noise are all at play here, meaning that there is likely to be something for everyone (assuming its an everyone who likes a bit of a hellscape). This is the sound of a band isn't worried about having a specific sound, but determined to just go with an emotional backdrop tone and see how many directions that can take them.

Stand out tracks, at least to these ears, include the jackhammer direct, and probably most dancefloor friendly title track "We Are Fucked", the bad acid nightmare of "Punch Drunk", the stark, Cronenburgesque, "Futurelast", and the brutalist poetic rush of "Stand Up And Be Discounted". But pick any of the songs and you'll be happy with the results, or at least smiling once you've been rinsed out by it, and the diversity of it all shows that there is still more to come out of the Flesh Eating Foundation stable. Even if it might want to punch you in the head at first sight.

2016 May Brawl - The Portland - 11/06/2016

Cambridge University has a grand tradition for traditions, and one of them is the Rock Soc's annual live show, being held at the same time as the colleges May Balls (which are mostly run in June, because Cambridge University does that kind of thing a lot). After being absent from them since back when they were held at the Man In The Moon, mostly due to them turning into black/death metal overkill and me then not keeping track of them, I decided to give this years event a go. Besides, how can you go wrong when it's £6 to get in?




WTVR
The event started quietly, with maybe 20 people milling around in all. Then a guy in leopard-print underpants walked onstage from nowhere, put a gas mask on and started making what can best be described as "one hell of an unholy racket", before then upping the ante by picking up an accordion. Then two other members of the audience walked up, jumped upon guitar and drums, and joined in with trying to redline the soundboard with what I can't really describe as songs or tunes because it was more of a wall of sound experience than anything else. Once it became clear that they were actually a cohesive band, I got around to trying to get their music, and failed in a quite pleasant way. It wasn't that it was especially cleaver or hyper-complex, it was closer to Muse on mcat than mathrock, it's just that it was filled with overdrive, feedback, and lyrics that were audible and poetic but basically a fever dream. I liked the experience, and when they focused on hammering out the tunes it managed to stay just far enough away from hipsterism to not irritate me. If pushed to pigeonhole it, I would say "avant garde alternative stoner", but given how wide-eyed the semi-naked vocalist was, a piss test would be required to prove the last bit.

Malignant Germ Infestation

Next up was a werewolf in a boiler suit on the mic accompanied by a pig scientist on guitar, with a stage setup of a sacrificial satanic alter, bathed in blood, and assorted gender blowup sex dolls with sausages tied to them. The music was very heavy techno-grindcore, with 90's game/tv/porn clips thrown in between rounds, and the show consisted of the singer thrashing on the stage, at the front of the stage, and around the audience, like.... well, like a werewolf in a grindcore band. From time to time they would molest and / or torture the sex-dolls, suspending a number from meathooks on the stage, and given the titles of songs there was a strong over-the-top porno-gore thing going on but someone would have to workout what the lyrics were to give a call on that. It was certainly energetic and the duo were clearly playing their deranged parts with just the right levels of seriousness, including the final section which was a quiet, introspective bit of mime. In the grand scheme of things, it was more an art project than music, so as long as they continue to come up with dafter things to do on the visual side (and they don't kill themselves) they should keep on charnel-housing in the free world.

Gout
From one novelty extreme band to what appeared to be another, but whilst Gout came in with Hawaiian shirts on and Human Centipede level-of-humour song titles, it all soon got lost in them being a death metal band. Quite a good one, if that's your thing (which it was for a good chuck of the crowd were), but still essentially a death metal band in Hawaiian shirts. For devotees of the genre its probably a breath of fresh air, and I can see things like the whole band being listed as "backing vocals, backing drums" etc being comedy gold, but whilst they were quite good at what they did they could have been dressed in anything they wanted, including just a bunch of black jeans and t-shirts, for all the difference the schtick made. Not dull, not bad, I'm quite probably not their target audience.

Petrol Bastard

For some this band are the logical end result of 90s industrial / underground electro; observing the disappointment of the promised future that never arrived, slapping it in the face with the realism of parochial, low-rent hedonism, and holding it up on an absurdist, reductivist, pedestal for loving parody and brutal ridicule. For others they're two blokes singing rude, daft, belligerent songs with choruses even the most drunken of audiences can vomit up, that are all done to a jackhammer up-for-it techno backing track that was ganked out of the Prodigies bin. Either interpretations is right, so you can be at the back with a wry, knowing smile or up-the-front dancing-your-tits-off and love it just as much. Easily the act that got the most motion out of the audience (including a can-can line) and certainly the most obsessed with shoving electronics up their arses,

Outright Resistance
Four musicians on stage, thrashing away like the late 80s were back and they wanted to make it into the Big Five. Singer out front, belting out with fury and heart, and scaring everyone backwards because they might as well have had "Face Towards Enemy" stamped on their forehead they were that explosive. It was fast, it was furious, it was jolly good fun, and they are clearly on a mission. They also do requests, finishing on the most chest pounding version of "Safety Dance" I've heard because one of their fans asked them to. The fans that helped them recover from having £5,000 of kit stolen, and the ones that the band are happy to talk to whenever because sometimes you just need someone to talk to and if your listening to this kind of stuff it's likely that your life isn't just roses. I had a chat with the singer at the bar afterwards, and that just confirmed that they are a very genuine act. It's probably not redefining any genres or pushing back that many musical boundaries, but it was good, it was personal without being introvert, they were clearly enjoying being up their to give it their all and, that often makes all the difference.

Trippy Wicked and the Cosmic Children of the Knight
It's a stoner band, playing stoner blues/doom rock in a stoner style. Their sing like their from Alabama and they talk like their from Essex. They introduced a song about wanting a women to get naked with them by saying it was about "a women putting their clothes on my floor" when the song is called "Clothes on my floor" and the hook lyric is "I want your clothes on my floor". Badoom-cha! What they did they did well with no surprises or deviation from the script. They mentioned that they had their album available in "delicious vinyl", I don't know if that was a comment on the format or it's taste. I wasn't stoned, so I failed to give a monkeys.

Whilst the line up was possibly a little heavy on novelty acts, rather than straight up rocking, there was enough range with the acts for their to be something for everyone to like (assuming you like the heavier side of rock in the first place). The crowd was pleasant, the beer was good, the venue just the right size, and I'll be adding the May Brawl back into my calendar.

The Sonics: Psycho-Sonic and This Is The Sonics

The Sonics are one of those bands that never made it as big at the time as we now think they should have, because what they did didn't really make that much sense to a lot of people until many years later. For the brothers Andy and Larry Parypa in 1964 Tacoma, Washington state, that thing was to play a style of stripped down rock and roll that burned with a rawness, a passion, and a power that would be the tinder and the fuel everything in the line of American folk music that would eventually end up being called punk. Rather than follow the norm of the time and "move on" towards psychedelia, progression, or pop, they hunkered down and tried to find out how much more could be beaten out of the original formula.

The result was the two albums, Here Are The Sonics (1965) and Boom (1966), which have been collected, along with with all the singles and alternative / live versions held from their time with Etiquette records, in the "Psycho-Sonic" album. In this you can hear their dance hall circuit origins in Boss Hoss, Louie Louie, and Roll Over Beethoven: tunes that they attack with a gusto and a sheer volume that clearly was beyond the means of that periods equipment to capture. It's a sound of people who grew up on Blackboard Jungle, rather than with it, and who just wanted to make it bigger. You can also hear the start of the outsider anthem, especially the triumvirate of The Witch, Psycho, and Strychnine, which mixed the dark social/horror themes of the blues with a James Dean swagger that had no clue where it was going or how but knew it had to get their fast. It was anger that wasn't sure why it felt that bad, and only felt worse because everyone else was having such a good time. Its a savage piece of America, but with a musicianship and core listenability that makes it enthralling and occasionally even introvert, and that carries the DNA that you can hear in the likes of The Stooges, The Ramones, and Nirvana (to name but a few of the bands fans). As an album it's a slice of a specific piece in time, of an underground that was just discovering itself, and a timeless piece of rock and roll mastery that you may have overlooked.

Given the history of the band, of their signing to a major label to then have their sound neutered and for them to split before tasting fame, it's natural to ask "what would happen if they were given a second chance now that everyone knows how great they were?". Thankfully This Is The Sonics, recorded 50 years later in 2015 with 3 of the original 5 members and following on/off live performances since 2007, answers this with a clear and concise "exactly the same thing, only louder". "I Don't Need No Doctor", "The Hard Way", and "Livin' In Chaos" are stand outs by a nose, That a bunch of 70 year old's can continue to rock as hard as before impressive in itself, but that they can do it with a sound that comes across as classic rather than retro is pure brilliance. Even the dirty-distortion of their first period is maintained, technology having improved enough to get the full glory of their overdriven glory as this is a band that could play a triangle and make it sound like it was hocked into a Marshall stack. About the only change is that they sound a little more focused, a little less confused, but in no way any more mellow nor one jot less rocking.

Duran Duran @ The NEC Genting Arena - 04/12/2015

The Genting Arena is best described as a cross between an airport departure lounge, what premier league football stadiums dream they are and an exercise in seeing how much you can overcharge for every kind of food and drink under the sun. It's also got lovely staff and on this brisk - but not too stormy - night, it was the venue for the return of Birmingham's greatest 80's export (or, as Simon Le Bon put it, it's "bastard children"). The venue was mostly rammed, the audience was mostly over thirty and everyone was moderately buzzing at the chance of going back to their youth. The only problem was: both the acts they had heard of had actually done a lot of stuff since they were last heard on the chart countdown.

Before that: Bloom Twins, a pair of quite talented Darkwave performers from Ukraine who do a good line in synths, live drums and mixing of 50's cinema tunes, with modern sounds that ends up being haunting, emotional and interestingly minimalistic. It was also wasted on the audience - the few that had turned up to see them by that point - and, in a neat nod to the 80's, suffered from the Ultravox problem of 'how do you make things look interesting on stage if everyone is stuck behind a sodding huge set of keyboards". I would happily listen to them again if their tunes came on the radio and would love to see them if they played in a club, but at 500 feet it was, inevitably, a bit of a non-event.

Little known fact: Seal has done seven studio albums since he released "Kiss From A Rose", something that he was quite happy to tell an audience that appeared to think he'd been keep in stasis since 1994. However they would be forgiven for having that thought, as 52 years olds really aren't supposed to be able to belt out tunes with that much power AND command the stage with that much presence AND interact with the audience with that much grace and warming wit. He started, perfectly, on Crazy and Killer which got a huge reaction. He then, perfectly, did a brace of soulful, R&B meets rock, classics from his other albums which were meet with polite applause from everyone more than three rows from the front, and finished on an, unsurprisingly perfect, rendition of "Kiss From A Rose" that got everyone singing and cheering.

Duran Duran have also not been resting on their laurels since their heyday of 1981 to 1989, especially with departures, returns and a brief hiatus when no-one really thought they would get back together again. They also (finally) have a really solid album (Paper Gods) to show off and thus were more than happy to kick things off with the title track, before kicking into a set that was 50/50 classics/tracks most of the audience didn't know because they weren't written in the 80's. But they lapped it up because it's Duran Duran, they can rock it like devils and they were overly happy to be playing to their hometown crowd, so wanted everyone to know how chuffed they were to be there.

The stage show wasn't anything too fancy and involved a bit of AV with well timed lights; the theatrics were kept minimal with only Danceophobia having any real choreography. But the impact was undeniable; the charm, charisma and confidence just dripping off every more and note. Simon Le Bon and John Taylor stalking their stage like the pop superstars they are, Nick Rhodes stayed at his keyboards like a conductor-general marshalling his forces and Roger Taylor just hammered his kit.

When they played tracks the crowd knew, everyone was dancing; when they played tracks the crowd didn't, everyone was listening - and when the moment was right, then everyone was singing. The big moment for that was the encore with Save A Prayer; something that was obviously going to be emotional, given it having become somewhat of an anthem for the Paris attacks. Le Bon introduced it well, stating the facts and offering it up as a song of hope - and then let the audience do most of the legwork. Hopefully there won't be much call for things like this in the future, but that night it gave a much-needed sense of togetherness and optimism. Then they kicked into Rio and people got back with the main point of the night: brilliant Pop that's a bit daft, occasionally poignant, and always damn good fun.

Industrial Music: Caustic

If you were after delicately nuanced or subtly composed music, then the tenth album from Matt Fanale / Caustic is not for you. This album is a steady, dependable, punch in the face; a throwback to the dawn times of industrial music that has gone "yeah - EBM, electro and the last twenty years of regular progression have been interesting and all that. But I just want violent, stompy noise and lyrics about hate." It's all stripped down, distorted beats, with shoutable tunes on themes of fucked-up feelings and disastrous emotions, designed to get people angry in the pit.

Opener "Attention Please" has a keyboard roll and lyrical delivery that reminds you of early rap tracks, whilst the instrumental "Michael Fucking Ironside" has a kind of bastard trance all the way through it like Brighton rock. The finisher "Bleached Asshole/The Deafening Beat of My Heart" touches on drone and "Toxic Waste" has the most modern sounding, near-gabba drums in it (along with some kick-arse guitar). But the rest of it, including the ironically dancefloor friendly "Bomb the Clubs", have a familiarity of the old school to them that is, frankly, awesome and needed.

Whilst experimentation and new directions are always welcome, it's great to have someone take it back to the start and go "no, this is how it's done and this is why its so damn good".  It also doesn't sound like rework-retro or hipster lo-fi, as it has a clarity of sound and depth of production that many of the early classics were missing. It's just a selection of the core concepts of the genre done with none of the extraneous elements that can often overcrowd or over-complicate things. Think of it as a cool glass of water after months of complicated juice bars and experimental health shakes, that someone has now pissed in and is challenging you to down in one. True: its not going to be for everyone. But some folks think it could both fun and healthy for you.

Breakout Festival - Brighton Racecourse - 26.09.2015

It's not often you associate Brighton with heavy metal & hard rock, but from going along to the Second annual Breakout Festival it's quite clear that they go together as well as ice-cream and beach walks (well, the type that leave you happy, tired, and somewhat deaf). It's also quite clear from having attended this years event that the organisers know how to operate an efficient band-packed event, and that the local scene is filled to the brim with friendly folk out to have a splendid time of it all. And by "all" I mean 14 bands for the outrageously low price of £27.50 (including booking fee), starting at 10:40 and finishing almost 12 music-soaked and fist-pumped hours later.

Opening up was We Deny, a quality pop-punk outfit that managed to pull people in through a combo of ridiculous amounts of energy for that time of the morning and a clear talent for catchy tunes. It was "light, but filling" in the best of ways, getting my feet tapping and face smiling before the first bite of coffee. Quite frankly, if you're under 25 and have even the slightest interest in being happy about things, then put this on your car stereo and just drive off to adventure.

And, whilst it was impressive being that happy at 10:40am, hats go off to Skint Circus for being so utterly pissed off at 11:20 when they rolled out their thick, sweaty, and highly energetic take on hardcore punk with breakdowns, beatdowns, and throwdown flying over the places almost as much as their singer did. Their lead guitarist didn't move much though, he just stood there in a suit jacket looking unnervingly cool. A band with that much anger has a lot to give, and I look forward to hearing more from them.

Next up was Seething Akira, a band who appear to have bridge the existential gap between Enter Shikari and The Midnight Beast. From their jolly intro of "Hello" to their rave-metal bouncing noise, this was everything you could ask for from a band that have one front man who looks like a young Alan Moore in a Lionel Richie t-shirt and another that you could envision your sister politely introducing to your mother. By song two they were both in the crowd, giving things a runaround - kicking off a moshpit conga line, sneaking a cheeky go on the bouncy castle near the stage, all the time accompanied by blood-pumping party revolution rawk. All of this meant that when they asked the question "Have you all had a nice time?" and gave the quippy "That makes us very happy" after the cheer, it came across as honest rather than affected, and just added to the fun factor that was washing over everyone. They have a single coming out, get it and then try to see them live.

The Gospel Youth had a tough act to follow, and their more laid back, radio friendly, alt-rock approach was a good switch of pace from what had come before. Touches of Gaslight Anthem, the odd bit of Fall Out Boy, mostly just solid rock played in a no nonsense fashion. Whilst their look was the most regimented and sculpted of the day so far they were perfectly willing to just let the music and the lyrics do the work for them, so whilst they didn't get much motion out in the slowly growing crowd there were clearly a lot of ears open taking it all in.

Another set, another change in style, something that seems to be the make of Breakout with a very broad range of the church of rock on display. By Definition were the next brotherhood on display, and they had come to give some very hard lessons on the benefits of blues based, groove heavy, slow and steady heavy rock. It was slow, it was steady, it was raunchy, and it was delivered with the restraint of a grizzly bear. Pretty much instantly everyone in the area started smelling of strong liquor and began tapping their hands, feet, heads, and assorted other appendages as the growling, swirling, bass-to-the-guts overload was hammered out.

Zoax were up next and rapidly pitched their tent as a screamo version of The Pixies with a heavy sound that saw more peaks and valleys than a bus going off the cliff in Wales. They also almost had the same visual impact on the stage at times, as all three of the guitarists were throwing their instruments around with so much abandon their mothers would have been worried someone would lose their whole head. Desperate to the crowd moving, their singer Adam stalked the pit like a demon whilst throwing his heart and lungs into every lyric. Not to sure on the safety of bringing a cabled mic into the thick of it, but no-one got hurt and it certainly added to the drama. Then he came over to the table we were sat at and he pinched my hat, so that's one to tell the Godparents once these guys make it big.

Then, for lack of a better term, Black Tongue happened. They just walked on stage, started playing something that sounded like five doom and death metal tracks all at once, hated everything in front of them for even existing for about half an hour, and then headed off. Occasionally they introduced a song with some horror movie sound track but other than that it was just "bang and gone". They even had a guest vocalist for one track that just walked on, screamed, and headed off. Like it, don't like it: they clearly did not have one fuck to give regards your opinion of what they did. Obviously the people who were into it loved it, whilst everyone else seemed a bit bemused. I'm assuming that was the intention. The only down side to their set was the sound techs not being up to task, as there was feedback and pops through out, which was a shame for an otherwise precision performance.

Representing the kind of  poetic, polemic, and curiously swinging hardcore that seems to grow in London, TRC bounded on with the goal of kicking up a riot and ensuring everyone had fun doing it. It was shouty, it was bouncy, it had riffs and energy you could listen to for days. It also had the line of "If you've got some energy, do it. If not, then get to the gym" and the request for the pit to get "a bit like strictly come dancing". The thrash-ier bits were intense, and all over, it got everyone up for a good time that showed the old school have still got it.



Shunning the simple pleasures of music, like tune or melody or even apparent structure, Heck (aka Baby Godzilla) landed next and dropped out a lot of sounds in about half the time you would think it humanly possible. Some might call it mathcore, or extreme jazz, or "all the notes ever, sometimes twice", or "Cream force-fed Napalm Death from birth"  but mostly it was just an exhilarating exploration of what you can do when you say 'no' to almost every rule ever. I'm not going to claim to understand it, but it was compelling and enjoyable like some intricate puzzlebox, especially with the bands determination to hammer their instruments and play them anywhere other than the stage. It was also impressive to watch as there was no-one obviously holding the songs together, but regardless of how far everyone flew off in which direction it kept on coming back to one central point, Oh yeah, and they hate microphone stands. I saw three of them laid waste in the first track alone.

Martyr Defiled hit the stage next, playing something that sounded halfway between death metal and blastbeat-based hardcore. Sadly the performance almost instantly got hit by bad sound, so nothing came across with as much bite as it should have, in the first track. The sense of terror was further eroded by their vocalist sounding so amiable and friendly when talking between tracks, as someone who sounds that devilish when singing, should not instantly strike you as someone you would share cocoa with. It was technically proficient but the performance side wasn't theatrical or passionate enough to really grab up and hold you in its fist.

Finishing up the last of the daylight were The Qemist, a raging slab of power is pitched halfway between The Prodigy and Pendulum, but with enough of their own sound to not sound like a dodgy knock-off. From the off they had everyone bouncing to their uplifting sounds and welcoming stage presence. A couple of the callouts and platitudes to the crowd may have been a tad bit cheesy, but everyone was smiling too much to be offended and they all knew it was meant well. Still, you can't argue with the crowd and they managed to get a huge response as everyone rocked out to their rebel party anthems.

And then night was upon us, and as the stage lights kicked in We Are The Ocean took the stage and played something halfway between alt-rock and dad-rock. It was good for what it was, including a brave attempt at Dazed and Confused (a fifty year old song for a crowd that was mostly under twenty five), it's just that it was too much of a change from what had gone on before through the day. The crowd dwindled visibly, the cold started to suck at people's energy, and though there were moments that landed some response from those left behind, they never landed well enough to convince me they were the right pick for that point in the day.

When Sikth got on stage there was a resurgence in numbers, mostly from the bar, as this was clearly a band that a lot of people had been looking forward to see. Whilst I wasn't aware of the band before today I can clearly see why people like their brand of prog-metal: it's loud, it's fast, it's filled with virtuosity, and it's almost certain to piss off your parents. It was also a highly energetic and frantic performance, which got picked up by the crowd and resulted in a lot of bodies thrashing around & building up a sweat. Personally I liked the spoken-word piece the most, as it was totally unexpected and yet fitted in perfectly with everything else before and after, and a fair chunk of the audience dug it as well. For a band doing their first gig of the year in September, they had clearly been doing more than just practising their tunes. If you are of the progressive music persuasion, then grab a ticket to whenever they play within travelling distance of you.

The day was drawn to a close by Deaf Havana and their brand of alternative rock, which sadly seemed to miss the mark of what the crowd were after in a similar vein to We Are The Ocean if the madly diminished audience was anything to go by. Those who stayed had a lovely time, listening to some heartfelt tunes and rocking singalongs, but for a lot of people it was either time for bed after an incredibly long day in the sun or just not their thing after the prog-metal blowout that had hit them before.

Still, with that much range and at that price, you can't have everything your way. However, you can have an incredibly well-organised and perfectly sized event, completed by a pleasant crowd and utterly pleasant staff.  They was also the bonus of all the bands hanging out in the audience, so you could be both encouraged that they are actually real people who got up and did it, as well as get the chance to go up and say "thanks for the music". Book your tickets for 2016, because it's going to be worth it.

Bad Magic - Motörhead

If a 69 year old man with a walking stick walked up to you in the street and yelled "Victory or Die" in your face you would. most likely, be worried. When Lemmy does it at the start of Motörhead's twenty-third album it just sends a shiver down your spine and locks you in for fourty-two minutes of high-speed rock and roll. That the album entered the charts at Number 10 in the UK (and similar high ranking elsewhere) is a testament to both the recognition that the band have achieved for being one of the true underground legends of rock and roll. and of the raw quality of the album itself.

Of the songs there is not much more that can be said than "the worlds finest speed-freak rock-and-roll", which is like saying "Mozart just did good classical music" or "Jimi Hendrix could play a tune". It's four-bar blues through Marshall amps, songs about love and sex and death and everything in between, and you're supposed to feel it rather than intellectualise or 'understand' it. Fundamentally if this video doesn't put a smile on your face and make you go "that's me when no-one is looking, that is!" then don't bother (and, possibly, radically reassess your ability to enjoy life).

On top of that the stand out tracks for me were Fire Storm Hotel, which was AC/DC with the engine in the red, Electricity, which sounded had their 80's era proto-thrash grind, and Teach Them to Bleed that has so much boogie to it you could see Elvis giving it a shot. There was also Till The End, the slowest of the collection and also the one most likely to bring a tear to your eye because it seems to be the lyrical explanation of Lemmy's stubborn refusal to take a break and not die on stage. The finishing cover of Sympathy For The Devil is also rather good, and shows off the raw musical talents of the whole band. Who knows, maybe Keith Richards will show up at one of their shows and join in on it; after all Brian May joined them for Overkill and does guitars on The Devil for this album so anything is possible.

Whilst it's pointless to argue if it's their finest album (tradition says it always either "the first one I heard" or "Ace of Spades") it's mighty addition to their catalogue and, given Lemmy's recent health problems, if it's the last one they play live it will be a fitting final blast.

The Decline of Western Civilisation Collection

Over the course of 17 years, Penelope Spheeris has created arguably one of the greatest and most influential music documentary series ever. Set in Los Angeles and covering the punk scene of the late 70s, the heavy metal scene on mid 80s, & the gutter-punk scene at the turn of century, it explores the sound, performance, politics and business, that exist around each of these worlds and times. It's style was naturalistic, inquisitive, unobtrusive, and at times brutally honest, which was eloquent and effective enough to eventually become part of the DNA of everything that has followed - with clear impact on Reality TV and the rockumentaries of MTV & VH1.

At the core of each film is, fittingly, live performances which are used as showcases for the scenes by giving equal focus for those on stage and off. The style is naturalistic, observational, and intriguing as anthropological documents. They also sound great, even if not all of the bands presented are actually that good. Interspersed with this are interviews with a broad range of individuals involved: musicians, fans, promoters, businessmen and police/authority figures giving the scene outsider/"every-man" view of it all. The iconic set of the blank wall with a single, bare light-bulb hanging at head-height is used extensively, evocative and beautifully simple as it allows the focus to be directly on the individual and their words. Being set in LA it also has plenty of car-based drive-along interviews, which provide the bulk of representation of the city outside of the venues or scene-controlled spaces, giving impressive visual insight into the urban environment that helped shaped the action of the piece. It also demonstrates how super-imposed the scenes are, hyper-stylized worlds pushed up against the realities of everyone else's everyday lives.

Although unified in style and approach, the content of the three is distinct and unique, giving each the flavour they merit. Part 1 has the largest variety of musical styles and shows a scene carving its way into the wider world on it's own terms and with a new sensibility of DIY. Part 2 shows a more homogeneous visual and musical approach and people unapologetically chasing financial success that the other two don't even think about as a possibility or goal, and Part 3 presents a nihilistic and often harrowing focus of fans living a vagrant life which they see no reason to attempt escaping.  Through all this, the topics stay the same: sex, drugs, rock and roll, what will youth be doing in 5 years, is it all worth it, if the goal is art of money, and how people enter into the tribes that they have aligned themselves with. But the changes in the answers are telling, the reasons and motivations changing in each era.

Picking a favourite or "best" is impossible, as each is it's own story. Part 3 is easily the most emotionally upsetting, dealing as it does with homeless under 18's who have basically given up on life as a concern and with 2 deaths happening among those interviewed whilst the "lucky kid" is someone in a wheelchair as they get to have a flat. Part 2 is the most entertaining, with the glam extravagance and heavy metal stupidity being instantly comedic. Part 1 tells the most optimistic story and has the widest range of motivations to be explored.

But the key thing is that these are three fantastic social history documents that are able to carry the interest of anyone who watches it, regardless of their opinions of the music being explored, as they go beyond the successes or failures of individual artists or the benefits or durability of a scene. They are regularly considered classics of the musical-documentary genre because it's something that no-one else thought about capturing, and they have been captured with care, attention and consideration. They offer an insight into real, relatable people, and not just three rocking concert soundtracks.

The Mindsweep - Enter Shikari

The St Albans fab-four are back, bringing another collection of tunes for folks into subjects like the growth of the corporate-state , the imminent ecogedoon  the failings of capitalist greed, and high-energy mixing of big-beat trance with post-hardcore guitar rock. So four albums, 11 years, and no real changes to their whole operation. Although, as they motor into their 30's as flag-bearers of a musical sound that never defined a generation but certainly gave some of it it's own feel, they sure as heck seem to have mellowed out in places.

For example first single "The Last Garrison" starts up as one of their traditional onslaught masterpieces of socially aware observations but then grows into a more thoughtful slow piece. The singalong glory of the main hookline "Head's up and thank fuck you're still alive! There's still air in my lungs, still blood in my veins" isn't the call to arms of youth, it's the pause, consideration, and consolidation of experience that knows it's still got a long way to go. Very powerful, very moving, properly progressive on so many levels. It's a feel that goes through all the album, still powerful but with a bit less frantic and a little more confidence that they don't have to be doing a million things all at once.

"Never Let Go Of the Microscope" is another prime example, with a couple of sections in-between the thrashing that are not far off reggae, and "The Bank Of England" is a slow paced tale of caution rather than what would previously have been a  nonstop scream of disappointment. "Myopia" and "Anesthetist" are more of their classic sound, but even they have a touch less constant drive to them than previous tracks. For long-term fans it's more of what was found on A Flash Flood of Colour than Take To The Skies and Common Dreads, for new listeners it's going to be that little bit more accessible and also demonstration of a greater range. Live it's going to be fantastic, as with longer sets and more options it's going to be a roller-coaster rather than their previous 1000 foot drop.

It's not a radical departure, but a change never the less, and one that works incredibly well. As a band with a very distinct, and in many ways singular, sound they could have easily refined and concentrated the "hardcore with rave bits" approach to diminishing returns. Instead they have expanded and embraced areas of both dance and rock, grown as a band and grown up as an act in the best possible way, to give more of a range and depth of sounds. They have shown that they are going to continue to expand, continue to grow, and continue to make albums as amazing, energizing, thoughtful, and joyful as this one.

Stomachaches - FrnkIero Andthe Cellabration

First out of the gate with a solo album after the demise of My Chemical Romance, Frank Iero's offering shows a good slice of what he brought to MCR but also enough of how he's going to take things now he's out on his own. It's a difficult sound to pin down as the album lurches between styles, something that the befits a project that started out as someone playing music just for themselves.

It's got a large dollop of the simplicity and direct, clean sound of alternative/punk in there, along with a good amount of thrashing and urgency. But it also has moments of complexity and eclecticism that give it a post-punk / new-wave feel in places, included an understated and subtle use of electronica and EDM sounds. Lyrically it's very personal and powerful, not in the big emo manner of his previous band but in a playful and triumphant manner that just enjoys the sound and feel of the words without worry too much if the listener gets anything more than a sense of meaning and a touch of it's power. He can also sing, rather well, and is great at getting the emotions across without doing an overblown performance. Stand out tracks go to the two singles, "Weighted" and "Joyriding", the sing along fun of Tragician, and the slowmo epic that is Guilttripping. However if you like guitars and a bit of pace then there is bound to be something here for you.

This all combines into something that is joyfully all over the place, playing around with sounds & feelings to produce something that is exciting, experimental but also accessible & immediate. It's the bastard lovechild of Rites of Spring, non-Nevermind era Nirvana, Brand New after a couple of pints, your favorite muso's speed up bar band, and someone just discovering what can be done with some wubs the DJ left over from last night. It's also quite possibly suffering from ADD, as not all the ideas and sounds become as developed in the songs as you could have hoped for. And that gets frustrating, as whilst non of it is in anyway 'bad' it also means little of it is as 'good' as it could have been. Quite where it will end up I have no clue, but it'll be worth keeping an eye out of Frank's next album and for his tour.

The End Of Silence - Rollins Band

Three things become very clear within the first couple of minutes of listening to this album: that
Henry Rollins can't sing in anything resembling the conventional manner. that the Rollins Band are a fantastic collective of musicians, and that Henry Rollins is an outstanding lyricist. After a couple more tracks it becomes even more clear that words like "alternative" and "rock" really don't do credit to the sounds being created, as the usage of jazz, funk, and noise experimentation push beyond what had, even in the heyday of the Alternative 90's, was becoming a defined and codified genre. This is primal stuff, what Miles Davis could have made if he had discovered a Marshal stack or what John Lennon may have done were he born 20 years later. Lean, powerful, disciplined, and out to destroy so that it can rebuild you in your own image. You will have two reactions to this album: you'll either turn off the music from ill-ease or sit and feel the hairs on your neck twitching up.

Lyrically there are two main themes: improving your lot in life and the ills of love. Opener "Low Self Opinion" is an anthem to faux angst and the call to becoming all you can be, whilst "Another Life" is a call to recognise the life you are leading whatever it may be. On the other side of the anger coin "Tearing" is a song for when all the love has flushed out of the relationship and "Blues Jam" is primal scream therapy for the terminally resilient, with the howled refrain "life won't break your heart, it'll crush it" managing to sound dignified rather than the petulant or  overwrought angst that someone who hadn't lived through it all would of presented. Musically there is one main theme: slow, steady and powerful. It goes at the speed it needs to, never breaking into a sprint but never walking along. Tempos change and melodies switch, but everything is done as is needed with zero fat in the sound. Everything is where it needs to be, nothing sounds flashy in the way that only precision musicianship can allow. This is a jaguar of a band, prowling with restraint and confidence. With the two elements put together it's a titanic sound, a rumble of power and majesty.

That this album could get so much acclaim twenty-two years ago and still sound as fresh and vital as it does now is it's true testament. By working outside of trends and fashions, by being such a definitive statement of it's own makers (and quite possibly Henry Rollins greatest post-Black Flag musical work), it has manged to neither age nor weaken. I would encourage anyone who has the slightest interest in what rock can be, in finding out the sounds and rhythms that can be forged from the deceptively simple line up of drums and guitars and in lyrics that can be personal and triumphant without reveling, to give this the listen that you have been missing from you life.

We Have A Ghost - We Have A Ghost

"Haunting" isn't a word I use often, mostly because it's been so badly used before, but for this debut album I'm going to roll it out and throw it around with gusto. Ten tracks of slow to mid tempo (mostly) instrumental music that just sits with you, on your shoulder, and plays a series of varied tunes that are both happy, filled with drive and melancholy, filled with slow, purposeful thought (quite often at the same time).

Musically it's a broad church, mixing in trad industrial, triphop/breakbeat, rock, prog, light alterative, and just generally anything that happened to be lying around and that sounded good. And, very importantly, it isn't a mess. It's not 'an eclectic mix' or anything randomly put together, it's a very clear vision of a sound that just happens to have a lot of facets to it. It's got bits that sound like the intermissions on a Nine Inch Nails album, bits that could be 69DaysOfStatic, bits that reminded me of some forgotten 80's mid-west guitar act, and a whole lot that could have come from American Horror Story if they needed a club scene. And it's a debut album from a one-man act (I think, the material on it is rather vague but surprisingly not annoying).  The only thing it doesn't have is a best track, as they all work so well together that I don't want to pick anything out for closer inspection and instead just want you to listen to the whole thing.

Human Zoo - Electrix Six

It turns out that Electric Six did more than just release four of explosively daft disco-rock singles in 2003, and rather than a comeback attempt (as I first thought) this album is their 11th. So, having missed the last 11 years of their development, I'm wondering "how much have they changed?". The answer is "not really", as this is 13 daft disco-rock tracks but with a slight touch of lounge-funk and soul thrown in because it just works really nicely. It's also rather good and it's always cool to see people carrying on with what they enjoy and focusing on fun over form, but still having the time and the skill to play around and prove that they really know their craft.

There is also no Gay Bar instant-easy-classic, so don't expect anything on here to become the ubiquitous nonsense song of the year (decade?). Rather it's a batch of enjoyable and well crafted, slightly less manic, tunes. "It's Horseshit" is a steady slice of disco-heaven, "Alone with your body" has got soul coming out of all of its hot and sweaty pores, and "I've seen Rio in flames" has a 50's-musical feel to it, giving off more than a one trick pony pony. Then again "Worst Movie Ever" and "I need a restaurant" are thumping guitar fun, so we're not a hundred miles away from their known sound. As you might be able to tell they continue to be both obtuse and ridiculously trivial with their lyrics, "Who the hell just called my phone" and "Good view of the Violence" being particularly daft in so many wonderful ways. Sadly fewer mentions of "fire" compared to their first album, but I suppose some things have to change for the worse.

So whilst this CD may not change anyone's life it may certainly being a bit of joy to your day, without being overtly soppy, and it should definitely put a rye smile on your face. If you want something to play at a party or just to get a bit of lighthearted bounce into your life then this album is for you.

Fiverfest: Heat 1 - 24/10/2014

Fiverfest is a band competition being held at The Junction in Cambridge, so it's a fantastic chance to check out a series of bands for £5.00. This doesn't explain why things were quite so quiet at the start of the night, as swapping a pint and a half for the chance of seeing the next Gods of Rock before they even get signed (or just a series of decent, up for it, acts giving it a shot) is just too spectacular to miss out on. Still folks didn't come in a huge number or variety (it was mostly the '18' to 25 scene), so others bad choices meant I got a better view of something far more enjoyable than X-Factor.

First up was Ambury Night, who played a sweaty version of tribal blues rock that I really quite liked. Their bassist had all the stage moves and their drummer was playing the 'hit everything all the time' game with great aplomb, which provided an excellent backline for their guitarist to noodle away to his hearts content and their singer to give their rather nice songs a faux-Americana belting that reminded me of Ian Astbury. All in all a great showing with a range of tunes & sounds on show, thought I would encourage their singer to try and sing more towards the audience than to his band mates.

Lost Lungs followed, and whilst they played a nice line in indie rock that had moments of Catatonia and 90's radio friendly goodness that would be great for a Summer drive to something exciting with friends they were a bit hit-and-miss for me (in that I liked songs 2, 4, and 6 but songs 1, 3, and 5 left me cold). Their last track was especially impressive, sounding like they were trying to drown me in velvet, and their stage presence was good, but beyond that it just wasn't connecting. Also their drummer was wearing a done-up tie, which will always be a major 'NO' for me as it means they aren't trying hard enough.

Fenrir exploded from the off, bringing a massive injection of positive post-hardcore energy, along with a tempo that perked up the audience and got the first motion going up at the front. They even got a singalong going and win the prize for smothist album plugs of the night. It had me bouncing along and was a nicely polished performance without too much flash or bluster. Just solid sounds and lots of pop hope with breakdowns at just the right points that I would like to check out more of.

This all left a tough one for Forever After to follow, which they didn't really achieve with their Foo Fighters mark 2 offering and the amazing line of "This one's about your girlfriend leaving you and its all emotional" which drew an audible snickering from my side of the audience. None of it was bad, as they could clearly play and were perfectly skilled craftsman (including their bassist who appeared to have recently scored some incredibly powerful E as he spent the whole time smiling like a loon). It's just that none of it was half as exciting as they thought it was or especially new/interesting.

And then finally, for me anyway as I had to nip off before the 11th hour additional 6th act, was The Abstracts. who brought along an Indie-Meets-New Wave sound that mixed The James, The Cars, and a touch of Elvis Costello with just enough Libertines to be distinctly English without needing a punch. It was highly emotive with clear Brit-Pop sensibilities, but nothing too overboard or pretentious (although their singer is quite possibly from another planet given his hyper-kinetic motions and ability to walk on stage dry to then be drenched in sweat before the start of the first track). No fancy stage work, but a good connection with the audience.

So was it worth it? Yes, very much so and especially at the price. I'm aware that events like this have a terrible reputation but for the price you can't complain and none of the acts were especially bad or a waste of time. The next one is on Saturday the 1th of November and I would encourage more people to go to it.

Pop That Pretty Thirty - Rabbit Junk

After a splendid run of singles the mighty JP Anderson and Sum Grrl, aka Rabbit Junk, are back with an EP of most epic proportions. Hitting you in the face like the most kawaii deathsquad it's another blast of thrashy industrial dance with fat-arse breakdowns, this time spiked with what sounds like the odd touch of EDM (though it could just be they cranked up the treble on this one) and its as bouncy as hell (standard!). Basically imagine Atari Teenage Riot and 90's Frontline Assembly got loved up on molly and then dragged Steve Aoki into the mix. It might not be the best way to describe the sound, but just imagine it for a second.... the look on his face...

Anyway Clock That Pretty Thirty is a thick slab of guitars, keyboards, and static, with Sum Grrl sounding utterly brilliant. It's a slow,driving  grind that doesn't go too far out of Rabbit Junks comfort zone, but it's a hell of a "hello" statement. Precipice follows up and it's got this weird 80's goth majestic quality with the vocals and instrumentation, in amongst the pile-hammer drums and crunching overdrive. Massive guitar riffs, great singing, lots of power without getting too cluttered. IDONTGIVEAFUCK is a high point, and in another world it would be the sound of the summer and promoting everything from softdrinks to cars to generalised world-salvation it's got that amazing a pop vibe to it. It's got a central hook that gets played about with, never hanging around on one thing too long to get boring, and is just explosive and high energy. Kinda like the Stadium Dance thing the KLF used to do, just without the trance elements. Crutch 2014 is a more dancefloor friendly remix of one of their classic tracks, in that its not going to cause a moshpit that might kill the clubs dancefloor. More high-notes, more bounce, same basic song but it just sounds a bit more modern than when it came out 8 years ago and still wins awards for the most ironic scream-along chorus that pissed people love joining in on. Clock That Pretty Killer will be monster live, as it's got a grinding hook that just locks in and a sticky intensity I could listen to all day. Not as dynamic as the rest of the EP but still solid and it's growing on me after every play.

All of this is available on Pay What You Want, so unless you are what's wrong with modern music I would firmly advise you to go and get this collection today. Then put it on your player and blast it away till its a part of your soul, or they do their next album.

Japanese Robot Invasion - Lovelorn Dolls

Someone in Lovelorn Dolls spent a lot of their youth watching loads of Manga Video releases (quite possibly on VHS) and going "I want to make a band that sounds exactly like the band in Bubblegum Crisis looks". Which isn't to say that it sounds old, just that it's got a certain sounds and feel to it of solid industrial goth-rock with an aesthetic that lends itself to cityscapes, bad weather, and maybe a touch of power armour every now and then (even if their image is 'Alice In Badtripville'). There are bits of The Birthday Massacre (who I will gush on about at any time you fancy), along with bits of early 2ks EBM and a splash of Garbage when they were at their wierdest (both because of the splendid female vocals and the way they mix it up with metal and pop elements). It's not too heavy but its got weight to it, and its delicate without lacking the odd kick to the face.

Stand out tracks include "Japanese Robot Invasion", which is just infectious with its rapid, bouncy hooks and ridiculously upbeat singing, "Long Awaited Kiss", which just sweats with menace and prowls like a tiger in your headphones, the recent single "The Thrill", with is halfway to Rammstein covering Roxette, and a nifty cover of "Just Like Heaven" which shouldn't piss off the Cure fans too much. No real bad tracks, no real breaks in momentum, even the slightly off the wall slow track "Jasmine" kept me listening. It's a cohesive body of work, so if you like one of the tracks you're odds on to like them all. Basically I like it a lot, and want to see the movie that uses it as it's sound track.

And Man Created God - Borghesia

It's an impressive feat to be both as pissed off and laid back as Borghesia are, but they manage to pull it off with great aplomb in their latest album And Man Created God. They also manage to fix a banjo and a Hawaiian slide guitar into an EBM album, so they are quite clearly mental and more than happy to play with touches of Americana whilst keeping bits of their native Slovenia sound. Good news is that it works, it works very well.

More playful art than experimentation it's all highly accessible, if easy listening songs about the dangers of capitalism are your thing, and never gets dull through repetition or too high a concept. Nothing is heavy in here, although some of it is a little compact and demands more than one listen so you are sure you've heard everything.

Standout track goes to opener "We Don't Believe You", sounding halfway between a workers protest song and the theme tune to a 50s western, with "Shoot Out The Clocks" just behind, whilst the Most Danceable award goes to the rather fantastic "My Life Is My Message", . However those are very hard picks to make, as there isn't a duff track among the nine of them. Previews can be found here, but my advice is to get the lot of them if you are after something interesting, uplifting, and thoughtful.

Start A War - Syd.31

Syd.31's debut album is out and it's focusing on the 'punk' part of electro-punk with a pair of late 70's Doc Martins and an urge to set light to anything that gets in its way. Very aggro, very energetic, and extremely bouncy, it's 5 tracks of big beats and simple, driving, loops with a lot of brazen shouting from Dr Magic and Liam-C, a bit like the if the Sub-Hum-Anz had come formed in 90's Ibiza. The fact "One Night" has stolen its chorus from Blitzkrieg Bop pretty much explains it all: few marks for fiddly complexity or bouffant subtilty but your feet are going to be too busy tapping for you to notice or give a monkeys. Title track "Start A War" is a brilliant declaration of intent, "Dieter Rams Is Dead" is a bold and straight-up bit of politi-pop, "Power" shows off some musical chops (and some sinister dubstep leanings), and "Monsters" pure dancy polemic on the topic of spousal abuse. It's may not be the fastest, densest, or most immediately explosive of sounds from the genre but it gets the job done on its own terms and with impressive impact. I look forward to hearing more of their work, and catching them live.

Hybridcore - Aesthetische

Remember when Industrial / EBM was fresh, exciting, and full of possibility? When the idea of a dark edged dance-music that would get you to put your hands in the air and be on the dancefloor all night was still something new? Aesthetische do, and their latest album, Hybridcore, is here to make your life a better place. Filled to the brim with everything good and wonderful about early FrontLine Assembly, Nitzer Ebb, and the like (good solid dance tracks with meaty electronic sounds, dark foreboding and themes) but also picking up on trance, house, and clubber anthemics. It has power, it has melody, it has hooks big enough for whale-fishing: what more could you want? How about it's two key members being ex Aghast View members, giving it a pedigree and them working with a range of singers to bring in a depth to the vocals that most bands fail to get over a series of albums.

Highlights for the album are the clubtastic "The Light Within", the opener "Wall of Illusions" (which is a dead-ringer for a Frontline Assembly track in a good way), the banging "Amplitude Zero", "Statement" with the sound of a pissed off VNV Nation, and the cheeky "Twisted Volt" which has a rather nifty new romantics keyboard line going thought it. Not to say that it's backwards looking or a rewrite of old favorites, just that it's a sound which knows where it's roots are and doesn't mind revisiting the classics as long as it can put a modern twist on them. The sounds aren't going to start a revolution, but the quality could. It's dark, it's edgy, it's sexy, and if you want to get hot and sweaty in a nightclub that's what you really need.