Professional to the death, Jeff Stuka gets about halfway through a review for The Blue Whale Blog and then gives up due to intoxication. For a more sensible account go here, but in the meantime, enjoy his spew below:
Blakfish / Shapes / All or Nothing / Idiosync / Soni-Quella
Blakfish Xmas Extravaganza
Oh shit. Giblets frozen by the Siberian wind that blew me into The Flapper, I stumbled indoors just in time to rediscover Soni-Quella, a band who seem massively energised since I last saw them back in the herby mists of thyme. A noisy racket to fuck the icicles out of your ears and an excellent way to recover from the biting frigid bastardy outside. Should have made more of an effort to get here on time and catch a full set of this thundering beast but that’s Arctic weather systems for you, making you late for gigs an’ all that.
Mange tout, Rodney! For a moment I thought it was the illegitimate lovechild of Fine Young Cannonballs’ Roland Gift and Denzil from Only Fools and Horses fronting the next band but no, it’s only Idiosync charging on stage, discofying up the beats. Through guitar licks with more angles than a shonky set-square and tight, neat tunes that spatter into the audience like a pant explosion on Milky Thursday it quickly becomes apparent that they are an illegitimate lovechild after all. Perhaps Bloc Party Kitchensync would be a more appropriate name for them as that’s what they’ve chucked at the music. Sadly, technical gremlins beat the bass amp up and end the show early. Maybe it was the wrong kind of snow. Idiosync sweat potential but damn it if they don’t need to be brave and find a sound of their own, allowing them to emerge butterfly-like from the chrysalis of influences. Like so many bands before, the next two years will be crucial to signpost whether they have the sand to make it happen.
Another swathe of influence overpowers us, this time from the flowering gardens of Green Day wannabes, All or Nothing. Like an overdose of Hai Karate, it’s technically proficient in that it covers the smell, but it’s not really pleasant to my palate. I know some people like this bouncy pop-punk (punk? It’s not fucking punk really, is it? It’s just a stupid haircut, some eyeliner and some very bad clothes) but personally I would like to grab a big stick and whack Green Day into another universe. Then I’d start on any band who sounds like Green Day. Then I’d do anyone who’s bought a Green Day CD. Then I’d do anyone who’s ever caught a Green Day song on the radio and started tapping their feet along subconsciously. Granted, we might be left with about nine people across the western continents by now but you only have Green Day to blame. And from this you can surmise how I felt about All or Nothing.
I must have been getting drunk by this time as I’m ranting and have little of substance to say about Shapes other than they are a band I think you need to “get” and tonight I obviously didn’t “get” them as they seem to be doing songs that sound like the endings of songs but the beginning bits are missing. But then, as I have already mentioned, I think I may have been drunk and if I think I’m drunk then that means I am drunk as I’m rubbish at recognising when I’m alcospazzed. Probably then, I need to catch up with this Liars-esque riot of noise when I can do them fair justice. As the last scrawl in my pocket book of rage says, I dunno.
At this point, broadcasts from Radio Stuka ceased as the station was taken over by drunks intent on smashing up his brain from the inside out. Armed troops managed to wrest control back from the insurgents the following morning and whilst searching the wreckage found some charred pictures of naughty nudey women, one shoe, several half eaten tins of beans and the remains of a damaged beyond repair Blakfish review.