Girl Sweat Pleasure Temple Ritual Band – Hyper Rituals

girlsweat

So then, we’re all agreed: it’s a farce. But exactly what kind of farce is it? McWilkinson will take the first seminar, arguing her hypothesis that the farce should be read like a deconstructive take on a Bakuninian-level revolt disguised as hot marvel. The second seminar will welcome Mordant Furniture, presenting his best selling vision of an illusory farce in a mentalist dogma, preceding the reality which followed it because of inbuilt hypotheses planted by previous venerations. Then Professor Summat Whassup will take the floor, and only return it when we agree to peer review his latest article on the cultural importance of whippersnapping the well-fed, who we should be concerned with because they’re the future of his fan base. And we shall end this enthralling day by dethroning the prevailing revolutionarism and slapping it, all in the capable hands of a brilliant PHD strident, fresh from the aristocratic jam function, known as Manjenium SLobobacker-Roosevelt-Ckumbucket. Tickets are a very reasonable national debt of Guatemala, or the soul of one or more of your children. This includes a buffet lunch – dingos kidneys wrapped in lettuce strips served by small white boys from the council estates that we’re paying minimum way-ge to in order to assuage our guilty consciences that shout at us when we write content-less articles depicting their way of life instead of fucking doing something about it.

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Sort of a gig review – JuJu / Psychic Lemon

This was at The Soundhouse in Leicester, yesterday, 15th Feb 2018CE.

In times past, whenever people have said blokes can’t multi-task, I’ve always responded ‘drummers.’

I’m now going to respond ‘the drummer from Psychic Lemon.’ Not only does dude play a wicked rhythm, he also gets in playing the keyboard whilst drumming!
Band have a monster groove. Me like the jam-band that doesn’t play dirgey music aesthetic. Me will watch again.

Listen to them here (sidebar: Chelmsford is my origin)

JuJu. I do not type this lightly. One of the best sets I’ve ever watched. Again, groove. Mostly it was just unerringly uplifting, positive. They transformed one of my least favourite weeks ever into one of my favourite ever, solely with their performance. If you get a chance to watch, do so.

 

Abronia – Obsidian Visions / Shadowed Lands

abronia

In the first place was the winner of the people chase, a lank haired fox named Orville, who won because of the magic imparted by his evil anvil. Orville, who counted several devils amongst his drinking accountants, promptly took his previous second best certificate and rolled it into a ginormous reefer which hit him harder than his hammer and he had to put it down. The people got away again, thus setting up a new race, this one won by His Majesty Gumley St. Helene-Trouser Slew, whose corpulent incompetence was passed through the ages to a present that neither knew nor cared as now is the time and cares nothing for tradition because tradition is history and history doesn’t exist. So the people got away again, the shackles giving up in a wimp of smoke and this time the moguls went after them – by this and by that they did keep gesticulating, transforming life into matter and then selling it as the status they craved. But the moment ignored them – after an enlightening experience it takes long persistences of abuse to make one forget that light but it only takes one instant flash to undo all that damage and see all the abuse for what it really was.

Gnod – Just say no…

gnodIn complete contrast to the previous two posts, here we have a whole heap of ‘AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!’ aimed right at your face.  And what a fine heap of grumpy-old-man stuff it is, too. Mind you, they’re probably a bit younger than me (I’m 46).

Gnod have made it their recent mission to try and re-politicise the alternative music scene. My own feelings on this are mixed because I have to admit I’ve never seen a tsunami turn back because of protesters on the beach, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be encouraging people to pull their heads out of their ****book feeds and actually look at the world around them and try to re-engage with other actual people, instead of relying on some commentator you will never meet to tell you that things are actually one way that suits them better than you. Also, people are actually nicer to each other when they talk to each other instead of when they argue on the internet, a pastime which only brings out one thing in people and that is the worst.

It reminds me in spirit of the last great outpourings of political music that I was aware of in the 1990s, particularly around the Criminal Justice Act that came in around that time. One of the main reasons for my mixed feelings is because the discontent from those times was one of the main reasons for Tony Blair, and I don’t believe I need to explain why we don’t want a repeat of all that, now. For all that we decry the current wave of so-called populism, it seems it was alright when he did it. But now I’m going all political and frankly I should leave that to this album, and I’m also giving the impression that I think political music is mistaken when I don’t actually think that at all.

So anyway, musically speaking, this is five tracks of loud done in the way that Gnod do loud, which is to say very well. There is rhythm and groove as is their wont, loud guitars, snarling guitars and vocals, and, er, well. You get the message.

I also wouldn’t be at all surprised if you weren’t to see this on a t-shirt or ten before the year is out.

But whilst we’re talking Gnod, I’ve also just discovered The Somnambulist’s Tale from 2012, which is completely at the opposite end of the sonic spectrum from this and demonstrates just how fucking good they have always been. And did you notice that I asterisked a particular web-resource, but left the word ‘fucking’ uncensored? Have it.

Rakta

Why genres are moronic, part 1.

I assume Rakta have their tongues firmly in their cheek by labelling themselves as ‘world.’ Therefore, I have honoured them by doing the same. Technically, of course, it is true – they are from Brazil, and Brazil is in the world. So, of course, is the UK, and therefore, The Beatles are ‘World’ music. To claim otherwise is to start down the road to cultural imperialism, and to get completely lost in the delusion of separation. Believe me, I will have much more to say about this. Anyway, on with the music…

I discovered these through the pages of Maximum Rock’n’roll, which one of our librarians has set up as a library subscription because he likes hardcore punk. I’ve seen the words ‘garage,’ ‘psych,’ ‘tribal,’ ‘all-female,’ and indeed ‘Brazilian’ used in describing this music. Me, I love the energy. The actual album is on my list of things to buy on payday (I’ve discovered loads of wonderful music recently), so I here present you with an embed of the single.

While I’m at it, here’s a video:

and here’s an interview.