ROAD TO RUIN SPRING 2008 SIDESHOW FAIR
LONDON UNDERWORLD, 23/03/08
Spring, it’s snowing pah! One thing that didn’t defy trades descriptions were the promised freaks, fortune tellers, mermaids and other sideshow attractions advertised on the flier. The organisers had done a great job dressing up the Underworld and themselves and made the gig a memorable and slightly different spectacle; not too sure about The Bearded Lady though!
First up band wise were Bomb The Sun from Swansea. I thought I recognised the first number as the guitar sound on ‘Not Waving But Drowning’ was reminiscent of classic Stooges number ‘Now I Wanna Be Your Dog’ as it literally scuzzed out the speakers. The sound of the guitars cut through the venue like a scalpel through a porn starlet’s silicon breast job. The sticky jam out wafted out the dry ice with incidental bursts of soaring (like a Freebird) vocals, which had the early birds stroking beards and sipping brews in appreciation. It seemed like they were talking about finishing almost as soon as they had started but no fear as the last number was a long one. Somewhere in the midst of it I swear I heard the riffs of Goblin classic Suspiria being played and it wasn’t due to anything I had been tokin’ on either. Strange but no doubt things were going to get weirder.
www.myspace.com/bombthesun
Pombagira I was reliably informed had a touch of Thee Plague Of Gentleman about them. Yep they sure had the nice crushing down-tempo sound about them, which crashed in like waves hitting the cliffs eroding boulders to pebbles. The vocals sure as hell added to this and were craggy and gnarly; filled with barnacles, tenuously clinging like limpets to the bass heavy onslaught. They got a reaction with one lass with a horses head and another down to her bra in the pit, said it was going to get weirder. There was plenty of gravity here and it was like being knocked out by an acorn falling from space. Mean and menacing, there was little in the way of fluffy smoking pleasure here, Pombagira served up a bad trip, one that unleashed demons in its wake. It seemed like they played forever, the only worry was would we remain standing when that last note hit, or collapse to the floor in a heap?
www.myspace.com/pombagiradoom
Fuck me was my first thought after being flung into the midst of A Horse Called War. This was a savage assault and a half with a rabid screaming vocal charge added to the fuzz laden and at times grinding instrumentation. In fact this was like being hit on the head by a brick falling from space. The bar was perhaps safer but I decided to ride the storm out as I was luckily already armed with a fresh pint. Perversely the thought I had was “this is the sort of band Raging Speedhorn wish they were”. Nasty and abrasively visceral, kind of like being subjected to fingernails scraped down a blackboard as your girlfriend wanks you off with sandpaper. As for song-titles, as was going to be the trend for the evening, they were lacking. By definition this lot were stonerpunkthrashnoisecore, kind of like chopping up the ingredients of a salad and adding your fingers to the mix. Ouch!
www.myspace.com/ahorsecalledwar
Following on from A Horse Called War we had errr A Horse. That head in the pit had been there for a reason and it was that man Tim from Among The Missing, Naked Shit and many other bands doing a solo set, under what name I am not quite sure. Who let this foal out the stable? Quite honestly only the clinically stoned or depressed could have appreciated this and I decided to sit on the corner of the stage and mong out as this guitar minimalism built up to sound distortions that sounded like they had escaped from the abattoir. I am not going to delve further into this but am sure that to the many getting watered at the bar this was utter pony!
Back in the real world (perhaps) we had the more classic stoner vibes of Jecano. For some strange reason the smell of garlic and petrol were both noticeable in the venue, the adverse scents kind of summed up how contradictory the bands were this evening. At least you knew exactly where you stood with this lot who faithfully played the sort of music that unashamedly wore flares as it came out a 40 year old time-warp. It got the engine rolling with its truck driving sort of get you through the night on a diet of coffee and pep pills vibe. They managed to get people boogying whereas some of the preceding acts had you wanting to bang your head against a wall. Riffs flew off the stratosphere and shredded stellar ass. They announced a brand new song and it sounded decades old, job done!
www.myspace.com/jecano
It was time for the American bands now and first up were a group I had heard plenty of good things about Stinking Lizaveta. The drums had been moved forward so the trio could play more up close and personal or perhaps more in our faces and boy did they do just that. First thing you had to notice were the band themselves, Alexi Papadopoulos upright electric bass was a veritable monster, his brother Yanni on guitar and occasional yells looked like a gonzoid Zappa and then there was drummer Cheshire Agusta belting seven shades of shit out her kit. Although tracks on their myspace did not particularly blow me away, live it was a different matter. With riffs schizophrenically flying all over the place this was what I can only describe as high art geek instru(mental) metal and I quickly found myself absolutely loving it, even if I didn’t 100% understand it. This was an intense a performance as I have seen in many a moon, one that threw out some of the oddest frequencies and quirkiest polyrhythmic stewed up head-melting signatures ever. Stop the world I want to get off (well after visiting the bar of course).
www.myspace.com/stinkinglizaveta
Could Weed Eater follow that, well frankly no. This is a band who advocate that eating your greens is good for you, especially if you wash them down with whisky. I was dismayed that one of the band actually looked clean shaven (shock horror) would I even be able to take a band of this ilk so blatantly follicly challenged, luckily the singer made up for this aberration. Not sure if it was finally the effect of all the beer but I did feel instantly stoned as I swayed about to this practically seeing double whilst trying to remain standing. I guess this was actually the perfect way to view the band and as the bass rattled through my ribcage and shook my teeth this liquor fuelled trailer trash redneck stomp was going to be one that delivered pain in spades come the morning.
Equally stewed to the gills we had an assault on the stage by Ben from Orange Goblin, whether this was pre-determined was anyone’s guess but it sure added to the befuddled spectacle. I wouldn’t say Weed Eater were the pick of the crop they perhaps had their stinking asses owned tonight. Time to pass out on the way home.
A big horns up to Road To Ruin for putting on a killer Easter feast
www.myspace.com/weedeater
Pete Woods
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