HEALTH + BUTTONHEAD + GENTLE FRIENDLY
WHITE HEAT vs. NO PAIN IN POP
Madame JoJo’s, Brewer Street, W1
Tuesday 10th June, 8:00pm

Hey, I should talk about music while I’ve got the energy to type constructive things instead of googling lyrics that could be used in foreign court cases, soooo here’s some more visual proof that I have little disregard for my hearing and/or wallet. HEALTH are the kids from The The Smell scene that are possibly the most image-conscious, although I only made that assumption because of the deep-V neck shirts and the fatuation with chiptune-thieving hipsters Crystal Castles. Are these accusations founded? You decide! The self-titled album (available now) flits between pounding your head with electronics and hitting as many things as possible, and pounding your head with WOAH WOAH DURGING DURGE; in live performance the same applies but with pure kinetic vitesse and thrice the volume. Couple that with two atrocious supporting acts (Hello Buttonhead! Hello Gentle Friendly!) who were akin to sixth form drama students except with worse clothes and the sobering fact that White Heat requires at least eleven units of alcohol for me to operate with a smile on my face and you have a night out.

…What? If you were expecting something approaching journalism then read a magazine. Like Artrocker. They know the score.

• [audio:http://barnetby.gunsha.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/10-perfect-skin.mp3]Download: HEALTH - ‘Perfect Skin’

HEALTH return with No Age in August thanks to Upset! The Rhythm and I need to find employment so I can afford the train fare down because that could well be the gig of the summer. Or you could buy me a ticket?
roman david

I miss New Cross.

The past nine months have been certainly something - chaotic, expensive, wonderful, three pound ten a pint - but that was all expected, rather unlike the gaping chasm that once housed my overdraft and my continued inadequacy when it comes to spirit measures. For every time stood watching The Teenagers and encounters with saucepans there have been new friends, adventures on hills, good courtyard times, all sorts. Why people would want to mix with me is another matter; I have been described as ‘a big friendly walrus’ and I spent my childhood years mastering the Death Egg boss instead of having friends.

If only these times didn’t fly by; if only I had spent some of them learning instead of sitting here, back in Humberside, worrying my head about whether I can return… not that I would turn back time and live my life like it was a Baz Luhrmann song or some bollocks, because where’s the fun in that? I screwed my finances, but I did so laughing my kertwatted arse off, buying too many records, having my ears pulverised by a myriad of wonderful racketeers and I’m probably financing The Wine Cellar’s manager’s new telly. Not as much as my friends (oh mercy!), but every little helps.

I’m probably closing in on the best year of my hilarious existence and it’s all London’s fault. Now if only I wasn’t rounding it off here, having traded SE14 for DN38; Brockley, Honor Oak Park, Forest Hill is now Habrough, Grimsby Town, Cleethorpes. Fine, there’s a Björk special on MTV2 right now, but after that there’ll be The Wombats and The Fucking Ting Tings. The nearest place to buy records and see talented people perform is at least an hour away; there isn’t even a Chick Chicken for miles around…

Siigh mope whinge arrgh and so on. I’ve been here a week and I’m already sounding like a whinging little git but that’s what Scunthorpe, what Grimsby, and even Lincoln does to you when you’ve seen what the alternative is. I suppose I could be somewhere like Norwich and then I wouldn’t even have the wonderful Peter Levy to tell me about how someone in Gainsborough is complaining about their bin collection rota. Or Lincs FM, playing middle-of-road, Radio-2-lite joy from the Humber to the Wash although I don’t need them because my mother listens to Newton Faulkner, a feat all the more morose considering she used to be into the Cocteau Twins. Still, some records to steal. It’s nice not spending a penny in nearly a week. It’s also nice being able to steal media in a simpler manner, thereby making me want to spend less pennies. Look at me, I’m nullifying my argument. HOORAY

The thing is that I can go on to myself (I’ve seen the Google Analytics; nobody will be reading this) about this area but I should have gotten a job or something… people find ineptitude a selling point after all, right? And it’s only till September although I also need to work out where I’m living by then (email/FB inbox message AM I RITE?) so yeah. Disregard those paragraphs. Cast them out! But I still need to see people soon again and be less bored/boring than I have been in the past week or so. Perhaps, perhaps that will involve more blogging.

Oh yeah, and at least I don’t have that beard anymore.

roman david

Just some visual proof that I haven’t spent all of last month failing my studies, develop emotional attachments to people that don’t exist and generally drink myself stupid; last month was the month of seeing bands and then seeing them again a short while afterwards, preferably in a different city that doesn’t house tramps that offer your drunken buddies bananas. Pissed Jeans, No Age, The Mae Shi with bands such as Mob Rules, Statues and The Shitty Limits in tow - it’s been a good month for standing in darkened rooms watching men writhe.

Pissed Jeans and Mob Rules at the Fenton, Leeds on the 16th.

Only went to Nastyfest at the Faversham (17th) for the latter half of the evening, just in time to catch everyone going crazy to No Age, The Mae Shi and (unpictured) others such as Japanther and Cadence Weapon; a tip to London crowds… the north is making you look like miserable tossers. Dancing is better than judging, you know.

The PJs at the Old Blue Last. Had to include the last one for shits and/or giggles. My, does my friend (right) look sweaty.

And finally, No Age at The Dome. Stage invasions ahoy, including that Japanese guy who you can see being taken off after he tried to take a monitor amp with him. Goodness. Their performances cemented the quality of their new LP and and whatever horrible metaphors the NME used when reviewing the thing (’Teen Creeps’ is “a brash, off-key blast of eardrum-searing Superchunk-style fuzz-pop”, apparently).

There were countless other support bands but if they’re not up there then they’re not worth your time - thereby suggesting that Mob Rules are worth your time. MOB RULES, you could say. Soft Skeleton has some exclusive tracks on their latest podcast, so head there for some fine fury. Nearly typed ‘furry’ there, which would have sent a different message entirely. They’re playing a gig in Brighton and a gig in High Wycombe and then you’re stuck till October.

Here’s to June and here’s hoping I actually post things instead of hoarding them and forgetting any critical elements therein.

roman david