With apologies to Throne, Gig Buddy and I wanted a real beer, so we went to the Hen and Chicken before committing ourselves to the Garage. Just desserts though: the barmaid misheard my order of two Puritys and gave us two Peronis, so we only hurt ourselves.
We did actually arrive at the Garage (which now serves San Miguel, just to put the icing on the cake mistake) in time to hear 2 minutes of Throne, and from what I saw they're a good band. Actually, if you want to linearly extrapolate from what followed - and I'm not saying that's scientifically viable - but if you want to then they must have been pretty damn good...
Because Wet Nuns were fucking aces. In every respect. For two men they make a hell of a lot of noise, and most of it is very pleasing indeed. Plus they're great fun. Crowd interaction (muffled to the point of almost inaudability): check. One man topless the other dipped in country: check. One man bald the other overhaired: check. Variety: check; heaviness: check; attitude: check. Just totally bloody enjoyable. They were the highlight of my night, in fact.
Although Black Moth were the reason GB and I were present. I'd seen their CD and its frankly phenomenal artwork (by one Vania Zouravliov - one to explore further) in Fopp, but recent experience had taught me better than to buy shit randomly, so I went home and Spotified them. And loved them. And looked for tour dates, and bought tickets. And turned up. And yeah, they were good. In fact they had moments of greatness - genuine greatness - like the first and last tracks, but they also had moments that for me got just a little bit lost within themselves, and could use a bit more work. But given that The Killing Jar (which I bought at the gig) is their first album, I am firmly convinced that Black Moth have the potential to more than fill whole sets with utter greatness in an album or two's time, provided they carry on doing what they've been doing...
Which brings us to the headliners, Turbowolf. I intend to write a post soon about blogging about people you've never heard of, but since I haven't written it yet I'm hoping to beg forgiveness yet again. Because, as I've said, I turned up because of Black Moth, and Turbowolf were an added bonus, and they were just a bit too fast and thrashy for my tastes. And tastes mean nothing at all, except that I personally get off on doom, and I can only report my impressions here, and so I apologise to the proper fans who knew what to expect and got it in spades. This is just what I thought...
Some people have charisma. James Dean had it, and Bruce Lee, and Tupac Shakur... Turbowolf's lead has it. He reminded me of Serj Tankian, except when he was speaking, when he sounded more like Robert from next door. Frenetic, energetic, mesmerising, stylish... How can you not admire a man who fronts a band - a headlining band - in a paisley shirt? The dude seeps charisma. And the guitarist could give a young Steve Tyler a run for his money in the could-be-a-model department, but that's neither here nor there...
Turbowolf were damn good at what they do, I suspect. The front 50% of the audience were certainly loving it, fists raised, circles spun, shoves shared... This was the first time I've felt old at a gig, standing at the back and smiling, but not wanting to get battered. The highlight for GB and I was their cover of Somebody to Love, and although I absolutely think bands should cover with abandon, GB was a bit put out that the song of theirs he enjoyed most was a cover. I dunno. Taste only counts for so much. Their final track was a ripper, and overall they whipped shit up, they entertained, they conquered, they topped the bill like champs.
This brings me back to my last post about why I stopped blogging. Taste - who gives one? Turbowolf were whitehot for most people present, Black Moth will be awesome very soon, and for me Wet Nuns already are. That'll do for a Wednesday night. It'll do just fine.
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