Well,
I did call for more free AND local gigs at the top of the year, given my continued
unemployed status, did I not, so I’m hardly likely to refuse when a couple crop
up in a row! A gang of Bristolian punk girlies await on Sunday; but first here’s
an eclectic bill up the Vic, offering different visions of American music, namely
My Social Decline, recent new friend and fellow baseball aficionado Rich Carter’s
embryonic band of US CBGB’s New Wave guitar abusers, along with Black Sheep
Apprentice, whose alt-Americana vignette up the Beehive on Shuffle Saturday
last year (gig 996) was an impressive last day treat.
So
I headed up the hill, thankfully avoiding a soaking from a sharp downpour, and
chilled with Mr. Carter (in-between his soundcheck) and his gregarious parents,
hearing stories about his dad’s tennis partner – none other than XTC man Colin
Moulding! The May boys arrived so I caught up with them and Raze*Rebuild bassist
Mr. “Paj” Jellings (tonight with his Black Sheep hat on!) before hitting the
back room for My Social Decline’s set, prompt at 8.40. A scuzzy, riff-heavy change-of-pace
instrumental opener bled into “Rhubarb”, a slab of snarling proto-punk replete
with entirely appropriate expletive-strewn snotty vocals from Rich Bellis,
setting the tone for their set. “With Nirvana” was a groovier post-grunge effort
with a 90’s feel (kudos for rhyming “Nirvana” with “Rihanna”, and the “Girl From
Mars” lyrical homage!) but with the subsequent “My Social Decline” and “Maverick”
it was back to those dark, beer-soaked smoky NYC dives such as CBGBs and Max’s
Kansas City, prompting the thought that these boys could be a modern-day
all-male version of The Runaways – if only they were prettier! “All Of My
Dreams Are Dead” burst into life with a guitar intro reminiscent of The Only
Ones’ classic “Another Girl, Another Planet”, and a solo “Sign Out” from Bellis
was an in-your-face Woody Guthrie style protest number, all seething menace.
The only jarring note for me was the final number, slower and almost
ballad-like in parts, but that aside I thoroughly enjoyed this set. Error
strewn and messy in parts it may have been, underlying their relatively new band
status, but somehow that seemed fitting given the musical seam they mine. More
important was that the set was delivered with a fair dollop of passion and
furious purpose. Nice one boys!
Chatted
back in the bar, and outside for the smokers, before checking out second band
Awakening Savannah. They opened with an intricate noodling riff which I took as
a sign, setting off my “Prog Alert” alarm, and I was right, as their set morphed
into a prog/ early 80’s HM influenced riff-fest workout, with a vocalist reminiscent
of Rainbow’s Graham Bonnet, underlying this. Clearly extremely good at what
they do, but what they do leaves me cold – I prefer to see bands showing me how
well they can play within the context of the song, rather than being
technically intricate for the sake of it. We therefore repaired to the bar to wait
out their set, instead chatting with Black Sheep mainman Richard Skidmore, who,
between bigging up the “awesome” sound of his charges, also intriguingly
remarked that tonight would mark the end of the “old” Black Sheep Apprentice,
before a “new” version emerges. Hmmm…
We
eventually escaped from the main bar karaoke, as a small but perfectly formed audience
welcomed Skiddy and co onstage, the black-clad and trenchcoated vocalist
exhorting some enthusiasm from the crowd with, “come on you motherfuckers”,
then belting into galloping opener “Let It Go”, all Ennio Morricone spaghetti
Western atmosphere and acoustic guitar licks. Then, some on-point Ed Sheeran
slagging preceded a searing reading of Buffalo Tom’s classic “Taillights Fade”,
the more acoustic driven version adding to the song’s tension and drama. Black
Sheep Apprentice, like their spiritual forbears Linkous and Gano, lean towards
a bleak, backwoods vision of Americana, evoking dusty deserted truckstops and
menace at every turn. In another life Skiddy would be writing film scores and
original music for Tarantino and Coen Brothers films, but instead he’s
delivering his evocative, accomplished, excellently-constructed and atmospheric
numbers to a Wednesday Vic crowd, with scary intensity and an entertainingly
deadpan, rapier-sharp wit, backed up very ably by “Paj” and the rest of the
Apprentices (or is it Sheep…?). He means it, maaaan… “God help the next
motherfucker who fucks with me…” indeed!
“A
word from our sponsors, San Miguel!” preceded, “a sad song about alcoholism,”
namely “Water”, a slower-paced number recalling Band Of Horses for its’ morose
majesty, then after “Black Sheep Apprentice”, a macabre death ballad with a
strident chorus and cacophonous climax, set closer “Jessica’s Letter” ended
things with possibly the best number, a stately, widescreen epic. Very
impressive stuff indeed.
Compliments
all round before we headed off, dropping the May boys home before a late
post-midnight bedtime. So, a couple of fine showings tonight, well worth the
money… oh, hang about, it was free…! Nonetheless, if that’s the end of the “old”
Black Sheep Apprentice, I’m certainly well up for hearing the new version!
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