1,102 RAZE*REBUILD, Supp. SexJazz, Flour Babies, Grasslands, Swindon The Castle, Friday 21st September 2018

This one rounds off 7 Swindon gigs in a row for me, in the space of just over 2 months… and yet, people bleat, nothing ever happens in Swindon…! Giving further lie to that statement is the premise behind tonight’s gig; a 45^th Anniversary bash for Swindon Viewpoint, the longest-running community TV channel in the UK, no less, which has since 1973 been documenting and covering all the nothing that goes on in Swindon (he says ironically), as well as championing local bands and original local music. Also a registered charity, so this event was definitely worthy of support for just that reason. But that’s not the reason for my attendance – so why am I here? Because Raze*Rebuild, of course; honestly, you should know that much about me by now! Never one for passing up an opportunity to shake a gammy knee or two to Swindon’s finest purveyors of honest, hard-edged anthemic blue collar punky rock’n’roll, me, so it was once again time to get all strapped up and off to The Castle, for my 13^th overall Raze assault and 5^th time at The Castle!

Had to wait for a parking spot in the usual car park at the top of the hill, but still wandered around the corner just before the festivities were due to start, Squeezed through to the back beer garden – a pretty decently attended one, this – and met up with the Raze boys and fellow Raze devotee Paul Carter for some rock chat, as usual. Eventually popped in to the venue to catch some of Grasslands’ opening set… and out again after 30 seconds! The “experimental” synth noise emanating from the stage was uncomfortable at best, and for me sadly recalled Merz’ migraine-inducing set supporting Suede, many moons ago. A quick chat with Paj (who on the whole was complimentary about Grasslands’ musical oeuvre) however convinced me I’d made the right move getting out of Dodge. Sorry mate, not for me. Back in, though, after more rock chat with Mr. Carter and former My Social Decline drummer Liam (now with Awakening Savannah), for Flour Babies, running into Ady in the process! I’d just missed Flour Babies at The Shuffle, and had been meaning to catch some of articulate new facebook friend Gavin’s “proper” band, after enjoying his challenging side-project Frances the Farmer recently. Da Babies were no less intriguing; after an opener which sounded like a fairground parade in hell (and whose brevity prompted me to ask a nearby Dave Franklin, “was that an actual song?”), they played a languidly delivered set of lazy, hazy and 90’s-ish US style alt rock, recalling for me the (just) pre-“Soft Bulletin” Flaming Lips, or Eels at their most structured and laconic. Not much of the alleged Pixies comparisons for me (some bits sounded like “Here Comes Your Man” and the vocalist occasionally adopted a Frank Black primal howl), but lots of ideas and creativity, including some nice quirky lyricism, “I saw you dancing around that traffic cone and god you looked insane” being a fave of mine. A good and well-received set, during which I chatted at the back with Ady and Mr. Franklin – sorry, I’ll pay more attention next time!

No chance of me not paying attention to the next lot, however; I grabbed a drink then a spot down the front, as Raze*Rebuild set up in quick order, then invited everyone forward, before powering into the balls-out, pedal to the metal set opener “Burden Of Youth”. Despite my promising myself I’d take it easy, I gave it loads from the outset, feeding off the usual bucketloads of energy and adrenalin positively coursing from the stage and particularly from vocalist Si. Unfortunately, however, tonight was an “off night” for the sound mix, Si’s vocals sounding muffled and indistinct, prompting him to almost yell some vocal parts, rather than adopting his usual strident vocal style, almost as if in competition with himself. However, for Raze*Rebuild, poor sound is merely an obstacle to be bulldozed over, and as ever, the sheer elemental brute force of their performance obliterated any sound imbalance to utter insignificance. “Kat I’m Sorry” was a huge bleeding-raw anthem, as well as a welcome slow-burn break from my dancing, “New Leaf” saw me throwing shapes with wild abandon to its’ raw, amphetamine fast delivery, “All The Gear” was an urgent, rampaging powerhouse, and after time restraints saw them cut other planned slowie “Sand In The Petrol” (cheers guys, trying to kill me or what?), newie “Troubled Mind” was a punked-up off-kilter delight, a worthy addition to Raze’s canon. All too soon, closer “Back To The Fall” rounded off another bludgeoning landslide of a set, Si and myself as usual competing for the title of sweatiest man in the room (sorry Si, think I pipped you tonight!). Incendiary stuff again!

Hit the outside, gasping for air like a fish flip-flopping on the riverbank, then once I (eventually) regained my composure, I chatted to various folks while headliners SexJazz were on, so I didn’t pay too much attention to their set either! What I did hear appeared to be a mish-mash of musical styles played in a frantic and barely coherent style, possibly in a similar vein to Bristol’s Martyrials. Probably need to pay more attention next time!

Anyway, more socialising with folks I knew (and a few I didn’t, but hey, that’s the kind of guy I am!) eventually saw the time running away, so I bade my farewells before I seized up completely, happy to have supported a worthy local cause and also shaken my leg once again to Swindon’s finest, Raze*Rebuild!

1,101 PALM ROSE, Basement Club, Rainy Day Fund, Swindon Level 3, Saturday 15th September 2018

Two weekend nights in two at Level 3… it’s just like the 80’s and 90’s again for me! The second gig in a row at my old “Spiritual Home”, place of so many youthful (mis)adventures and nights of tequila and sweaty dancing, promised to be a little different to the one before, however… Once again, I’m availing myself of the nicely maturing pleasures of Palm Rose, easily my best local “find” of the year, and a shoe-in to be Swindon’s finest band that isn’t called Raze*Rebuild! This one is a biggie, though; a CD release party for their debut 5-tracker “Daydreams”, an aptly named body of work encapsulating the ephemeral, dreamlike nature of their deliciously beguiling music, which deftly incorporates elements of spacerock, dreampop, post-punk and shoegaze, and melds them into a soaring, widescreen and stately whole.

A couple of promising young supports as well, so I hit the road after a Saturday evening visiting my dad with the fam and stuffing myself silly with Chinese food, parking around the corner just before doors at 8. Wandered downstairs, as I’ve probably done over a thousand times before, and caught up with Palm Rose vocalist Adam, manning the “pay what you want” cover contribution bucket with his lovely lady Meghan. Chatted about the EP and their plans to promote it; they’ve fired it off to all and sundry, so hopefully some (good) reviews will ensue! No physical copies, though, so I ordered a download from Bandcamp whilst waiting for the openers. Rainy Day Fund (for t’was they) bounded enthusiastically on at 8.30, kicking off with “You’re Not Alone”, a gauche, angular math rock track with a noisy conclusion. This set was apparently their last with their old bassist (who, noticing his replacement in the crowd, remarked pointedly, “watch and learn…!”), and they gave him a good send-off with a bright and enjoyable set. “Brainshake” was a Summery slice of C86/ Hit Parade indiepop, “Slipping Away” featured some nice 60’s harmonies, and again the frantic and effervescent penultimate number “Rainy Day” was their best on show tonight. Still needing more power through the vocals, they’re however coming along nicely.

The equally young Basement Fund, next up, mined a similar seam of old school indiepop; their opener had a similar drum pattern to Orange Juice’s classic “Simply Thrilled Honey”, and much of their occasionally ramshackle, quickfire strumalong yet slightly funky set recalled those old Postcard Records days. Some more upbeat numbers recalled the buoyant jangle of current faves Rolling Blackout Coastal Fever as well as C86 rabble The Razorcuts, and again this was an optimistic and Summery, albeit retro sounding set from a young band who need practise and honing, but showed definite promise. Certainly the equally young crowd lapped it up – this was quite a difference from the veteran crowd of last night; a smattering of proud parents apart, I was easily the oldest bloke in the room…!

Chatted to ex-Well Dressed Thief James before his former bandmates took the stage at 10; Adam solo at first, his soaring, almost operatic tones embellished by some synth colourwash for a reprise version of “Daydream”, this stripped back rendition recalling the haunting “Sweet Disposition” by Tender Trap. We were then treated to the EP in order, the funky bass base of “Where Are We Now”, the more bleak, morose Modern Eon feel of “Move Slowly” and the echoey, textural tones of “Tender Crush/ Heartless Love”. The highlight of the EP run-through for me, however, was the revisitation of “Daydream In C”, building to an impressive haunting climax, propelled by Adam’s excellent, stately vocal tones.

A couple of other numbers fleshed out a fine 45 minute set, with the building, repetitive hook of “Humid” cutting to an acapella ending, and set closer “Seattle” a stripped back base recalling U2’s “With Or Without You”, before bursting into a cacophonous break and an intricate guitar outro, rounding out the set perfectly. Overall, Palm Rose’s set actually sounded better than last night’s, the sound mix better balanced, suiting their more precise, nuanced material better than Big Country’s rockier anthems. Fine stuff again!

Congrats to Adam before I hit the road, back in time to catch some of “Match Of the Day”. Another advantage of local Saturday night gigs! I don’t believe Palm Rose will stay local for too long, though, and hopefully the EP will give them a wider audience that their splendid musical vision undoubtedly deserves. Here’s hoping…

1,100 BIG COUNTRY, Derailer, Swindon Level 3, Friday 14th September 2018

Another milestone reached, and in the company of eminently worthy hosts as well… I’d thoroughly enjoyed the (relatively) recent Big Country reunion shows, featuring The Alarm’s Mike Peters in place of the fabled 80’s Celtic tinged post-punkers’ sadly lost founder and vocalist Stuart Adamson, and since original duo Bruce Watson and Mark Brzezicki continued to tour as more of a going concern with a new line-up, I’d been hoping to finagle them onto my gig schedule. I’d even been pondering their November Fleece gig, when a no-brainer date at Swindon MECA was announced; now, the only issue was, how to get Logan in? My little man, 3 years shy of the 14+ stipulation, had seen Bruce and son Jamie perform twice with The Skids and was keen to see them in their “day job”. I therefore approached promoter Leander Morales who pulled strings with the venue and got Logan permission to attend. Hooray! Unfortunately, slow ticket sales meant a switch to the smaller Level 3, so Leander had to do the same with that venue – eventually successfully. Hooray! Again!

So, it was two excited little boys (me and my son!) who drove into town and parked on Milton Road, joining the queue and hitting the venue for 8. I had fun telling Logan stories of my exploits at my 80’s/ 90’s “spiritual home” (“if these walls could talk,” indeed!) and we ran into some old faces from those days during support Derailer’s set. Local veterans, their set pitched midway between some balls-out rocking Stooges-like proto punk, and some more sludgy hoary and hairy blues/pub rock. “I hope you’re going to fill this gap [on the dancefloor] when Big Country come on; we’ve only got one bloke down here!” the vocalist announced at one point, indicating Logan…! Their set improved, with rocker “Icebreaker”, 4/4 blues terrace chant rocker “Riot” and an “LA Woman”-like final number. Unoriginal, but unfussy and unpretentious. Seen a lot worse!

Kept our front row spot, house right, as the compact dancefloor filled and we were joined by Phil and The Big Man, before eerie Celtic music heralded Big Country’s entrance at 9. No messing around, this lot, straight into the strident, soaring and singalong “1,000 Stars”, Bruce Watson’s ringing guitar work already the main feature. “Swindon! Friday night! What were we thinking?” the guitarist quipped at its’ conclusion, before announcing they were last in the ‘don at the Brunel Rooms, to which some wag down the front (ok, it was me…) replied, “17^th August 1982 – I was there!”, only to be shot down with, “really? You should be on Time Team!” Then, noticing Logan after a fist-pumping “Look Away”, Bruce remarked, “small boy alert! Must remember not to swear… aah, fuck it!”

This set the tone for a relaxed, thoroughly enjoyable and celebratory set, in front of a fully engaged veteran audience. By no means note perfect, and with the sound mix a little uneven and lacking oomph at times, the overriding memory was the band’s performance itself; they were simply on fire tonight, pouring heart and soul into these fabled old songs, Bruce in fantasy band camp and throwing shapes throughout, vocalist Simon walking the line well between crowd rabble-rouser and reverential guest, and virtuoso drummer Mark giving a sheer masterclass in his art. And the songs… I may have revered “Heaven Up Here” more, “Empires And Dance” may have been more ground-breaking, but Big Country’s 1983 debut “The Crossing” is, in retrospect, a masterpiece of its’ time, songs full of huge terrace-chant choruses and evocative and windswept Celtic soundscapes, songs so intrinsically interwoven into my DNA it takes little persuasion for me to sing along, arms aloft, that 17 year old boy in the Amphi again… “The Storm”, a Celtic reel of delight, was excellent, “Porrohman” (which seamlessly segued into “Harvest Home”) a thing of desolate, widescreen wonder and my set highlight tonight, “Inwards” a raggedy-arsed, reckless romper-stomper, and “Chance” a lengthy and communal singalong, its’ joyful nature slightly at odds with the subject matter.

“Fields Of Fire” ended the set, at which point Bruce, after a short band huddle, announced there was no point going all the way back to the dressing room (at the back of Level 3’s balcony) just to come all the way back, so powered through! “In A Big Country” fittingly ended the night, with the band taking a deserved bow and Mark then paying an entirely apposite homage to Stuart Adamson. Chatted with the boys and our friendly merch guy Gordon afterwards, before I took a wired but tired boy home. I’ve certainly been to better sounding gigs this year, but in terms of sheer enjoyment, that was up with the best of ‘em. Thanks to Big Country – and Leander! – for a splendid boy’s night out!