1,394 CHEEKFACE, MARTHA, Fresh, Bristol Strange Brew, Saturday 12th July 2025

 

The UK is in the grip of a serious heatwave, so what do I do on probably the hottest day of said spell? Why, go to a sell-out gig in a tiny venue in Bristol, of course! To be fair, this one was booked long before the mercury went haywire; a quick return to gigging action for North-East helium punk-popsters Martha, and at Strange Brew, the same venue where they tore it up last September (gig. 1,344), but this time in support (!) of quirky US indie newbies Cheekface! I’d liked bits of the Cheeksters’ stripped back, lyrically wry and comedic recorded output so far, particularly the They Might Be Giants through a Weezer filter vibe of “We Need A Bigger Dumpster” but I was intrigued to see how the joke might play out over a full hour. Particularly in a sweaty little venue, following such an overtly dynamic band such as Martha. We’ll see… 

My Dice app suggested doors were at 7, so I set off just after 6.15 for an air-conditioned drive down a baking M4, only to find I was ½ hour late, with openers Fresh already midway through their set! Damn shame, as what I heard was some spritely, fast and frantic C86-ish ramshackle indie pop, with some insistent overlaid choral harmonies recalling early Coach Party or even tonight’s headliners. Vocalist Kathryn was clearly up for it as well; “my bra is out, my boobs are out [they weren’t], my armpit hair is out… it’s the most fun I’ve had in years!” A slightly messy grunge/ thrash closer didn’t detract from a splendid opening set, prompting me to buy their “Raise Hell” CD and chat briefly with the ebullient vocalist afterwards. Apparently, most of Fresh’s set was new material too, being tour road-tested, so fingers crossed for a new album later this year… 

The place was already full and sweaty, so I grabbed a central spot a few rows back for Martha’s 7.50 entrance after a startlingly quick turnaround. In no mood to fuck about or make concessions to the heat, they ripped into their set in their usual rapid-fire manner, an early “Chekhov’s Hangnail” prompting an early singalong from this young, gender-fluid audience. “Happy Pride! Especially if you’re Trans!” Naomi announced after a jolly “Love Keeps Kicking”, introducing the subsequent broodier “Into This” with an ironic, “this is a love song…”; then the brash, breathless and acerbic “Hope Gets Harder” tore the venue a new one, drummer Nathan powering the number along and finishing with a “Tommy Gun” drum flourish.

Guitarist JC shared a story of getting in trouble in the supermarket earlier before “Supermarket Song”, then drummer Nathan announced a rarely/ never (?) played oldie, the urgent “Historian”, featuring excellent layered harmony vocals from all 4 band members, singing contrasting lyric lines, an oft-underappreciated feature of a number of Martha songs. Following a punkish blast through “Wrestlemania VIII”, the drummer then made an impassioned albeit carefully worded speech in support of Palestine to unanimous acclaim from the crowd, before a venomous set-highlight “Flag Burner”. The change of pace and gabbled vocal of “Bubble In My Bloodstream” closed a frenetic 45 minutes, after which, despite only swaying in my spot, I looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water over me! Still, well worth it for another excellent Martha set…

Took a breather outside (as, it seemed, did most of the audience!) before heading back in just before the headliners, as the PA blasted TMBG’s “Birdhouse In Your Soul”. A bit on the nose, that…! Cheekface themselves emerged behind a marching band fanfare backing track, a buoyant opener in “Popular” (no, not that one…) followed swiftly by vocalist Greg Katz’ slower, monotone rap during “Best Life” and even more robotic vocal delivery of “Featured Singer”, segueing into an audience participation of “Cha Cha Slide”.

And therein lies my problem with Cheekface; as much as I enjoyed Katz’ deadpan, Richman-esque vocal delivery during the subsequent “We Need A Bigger Dumpster” (which was excellent, the laconic stripped-back verse bursting into a huge, stomping Weezer-esque chorus), too much of it made the early material sound flat and plodding, the laconic and intricately humorous nature of the lyrics also being a bit lost for me in the process. The between song banter (shticks about Bristol being “an important entertainment market” and a quip about air-con having not made it across the Atlantic) was also delivered in the same inexpressive manner, and (despite clearly being the only one with this view in this enthusiastic crowd), I was really holding out for something to liven Cheekface’s performance up a few notches… 

Luckily it arrived, and via an unlikely source; Katz introduced, “an original Cheekface composition,” in “Noodles”, a song to rival Sebadoh’s “Chip Butty” in its subject matter, brevity and utter silliness, then in a fun “Groundhog Day” moment, played the damn thing 3 times! After that, the set picked up considerably in both pace and buoyant mood; “When Life Hands You Problems” was a superfast gabbling punky blast, and whilst I could have done without the “Give It Away” rap in an otherwise fine drum-propelled “Military Gum”, the subsequent “Eternity Leave” was a great We Are Scientists-like slice of alt-powerpop, and the upbeat Smiths jangle of “Art House” even better. The relentlessly jolly “Middle East” preceded a diatribe from Katz about the need for community in this fucked-up world, before the jumpy Weezer-isms of “Listen To Your Heart” rounded off a variable set which finished very strongly and largely won this old cynic over in the end.

 A quick R.E.M-centric chat with Bristol gig friend Louise down the front afterwards, then a sweaty drive home, hitting a stationary bank of traffic on the M32 for 10 minutes or so as an accident was cleared, but still getting back for a late doner wrap tea and home about 11.30. A fine night overall, then; a promising new band in Fresh, Cheekface were fun albeit a bit inconsistent (as I’d anticipated in all honesty), but Martha won out for me, having really raised the temperature on a hot and sweaty night, with another excellent set!

1,344 MARTHA, Former Champ, Hamburger, Bristol Strange Brew, Thursday 5th September 2024

 

After yesterday’s shlep up that Big Smoke, here’s a closer one, down to Bristol’s relatively new Strange Brew for Durham’s own bouncy anarcho-punk popsters and queercore warriors Martha. A relatively quick return for Martha-punx, this, gig 1,254 at The Exchange in support of their spunky 4^th album “Please Don’t Take Me Back” being barely 22 months ago, and also one where prima facie they seem to have nothing in particular to push or promote. Still, that last one was a bit of a barnstormer, so I’m always up for more from this bunch of effervescent helium indie punk popsters!

 A pretty crappy day saw me nearly blow this one off, but I eventually hauled my ass into the car for a solo trip down a drizzly mood-matching M4, parking in Nelson Street and meeting Stu, Andy and Nigel in the venue about 10 to 8. First support Hamburger were already squeezed onto the stage at this bohemian Arts Centre-esque space; they ploughed a similar furrow to tonight’s headliners, some gauche 80’s-influenced DIY indie tuneage getting my toes tapping early doors before they diverted into more understated, slower-burn (and slightly dull actually) Weezer-esque proto-emo stuff. My best memory of them was their thanks to the early comers before their closer; “I know Thursday is a premium night for “Settlers Of Catan”…!” 

Much better was to come though, with main support Former Champ; a female fronted 5-piece, opener “Beginner’s Luck” was a splendid robust piece of indie powerpop, and an early newie “Big Surprise!” recalled current faves The Beths with it’s undulating and accelerating guitar groove. A later “Sunday Morning” showed a different dreamier side with a more crafted, expansive and widescreen mid-paced vibe, before they switched up gears again for the final few numbers, finale “Hold On” the pick of the bunch with a Summery strumalong Smiths/ early Byrds feel. The fact they packed 11 numbers into a half-hour support slot as well, most of them economical and fat-free, was great value, so I could even forgive the slight verse structure steal from 60’s staple “Got To Get You Into My Life” for their nonetheless highly melodic “Porcelain”, plus vocalist Claire’s tones being a little understated and occasionally lost in the mix. Nope, Former Champ were ace, happily continuing the run of excellent Martha supports initiated last time out by Bigfatbig (gig 1,254), and prompted me to grab a list and buy a tshirt off Claire on the merch stand.

A quick loo trip and a chat with a visiting Gareth from Los Campesinos! who remembered our chat at their recent Exchange gig (gig 1,338) and complimented my This Mortal Coil tshirt, before back with the boys in their spot, halfway back for Martha’s arrival in short order at 9.15 to the backing music of Rush’s “Spirit Of Radio!” As ever, the PityMe DIY punksters were in no mood to fuck about, setting the tone for their set with the rampant amphetamine gabble and snaking riffery of “Beat Perpetual” and the quickfire, acerbic “Every Day The Hope Gets Harder”, featuring that Clash “Tommy Gun” drum outro. Pow pow, take that, Bristol!

The reason for this tour then became evident, drummer Nathan announcing, “10 years ago we released an album called “Courting Big”… it’s good you [the audience] whooped at that as we’re going to play 6 songs from it… here’s 4!” So, an impromptu celebration of their debut (despite their later mentioning one theme of 2022’s aforementioned “Please Don’t Take Me Back” was about not romanticising the past!) featured that album’s pounding “Cosmic Misery”, Naomi’s helium Minnie Mouse vocals on “1997 Passing In The Hallway” and the overlaid call and response and undulating riff of a later “1967 I Miss You I’m Lonely”, rebadged as a “Horny” sexy number tonight! In between, the joyous hook of an effervescent “Heart Sink” and the irrepressible singalong hook and descending riff of “Goldman’s Detective Agency” were highlights of a set which galloped along at a cracking pace, like wild ponies on a windswept Whitby beach. 

An overheating Naomi joked about changing her undies (!) before the hobnail boot-stomping “Chekhov’s Hangnail” and the “Silver Lining”-esque guitar of set closer “Love Keeps Kicking”. Drummer Nathan then made an impassioned plea on behalf of 2 charities, Pro Palestine and anti-Fascist group Red Flare (highly worthy and necessary causes both), before the pointed “Flag Burner” and a dark, dramatic “Void” rounded off another breathless, buoyant yet (at its’ conclusion) politically charged Martha set. I’d moved forward and seen the last half dozen numbers from nearer the front, hanging with 2000 Trees friends Jamie and Marc; then patience eventually got me Nathan’s set list, before I hit the road for a swift drive, home at 11.30, kebab in tow. Glad I went, as Former Champ and Martha provided the perfect antidote for my crappy day!

1,254 MARTHA, Bigfatbig, Cosmit, Bristol The Exchange (Evening!), Saturday 26th November 2022

 

After a brief pause following “Shiiine On”, it’s back on the gigging trail with a vengeance, with 4 gigs in the next 8 days! For starters, tonight sees a welcome return to my Dance Card for spritely helium-voiced indiepop/punk gender warriors Martha, Durham’s finest having released their 4^th album “Please Don’t Take Me Back” earlier this Autumn. Prima facie another jet-propelled collection of their infectiously catchy guitar-driven poppy punk, but scratch the surface and there’s more depth to this one; the usual musings on interpersonal relationship issues and identity in the 21^st century are joined by some pointed and occasionally necessarily savage political commentary about the utter clusterfuck we’re living in under the tyranny of Tory rule, giving an extra dimension to the band and perhaps proving to be their best album yet… Most popular too, as The Exchange gig sold out so quickly that a Matinee performance was also scheduled!

 Stuart and I however scored tix for the evening, so, in need of some good company and good rock after a turbulent week, I picked the man up and we chatted our way down a drizzly M4, slotting into a free street parking space after a van pulled out – timing! – and hitting a quiet venue just after opening. No time to do anything other than grab a drink and a side-venue pew before openers Cosmit took the stage at 7.15. Clearly taking their cue from tonight’s headliners, they ripped through a set of breakneck-speed, urgent and yearning Buzzcocks/ early Soup Dragons-like melodic punk, with some impressive male/female/other (who knows these days?) overlapping harmonies, and call and response choral hooks. I enjoyed the impressive “whoa-oh-oh” harmonies on the agenda-setting opener, the hurtling “36 Degrees”-esque 4^th number, and the vocalist’s imaginative use of the floor as a percussive instrument in the ramshackle, C86 Subway Records-esque “Caught Up In The Go Go Go”. Plenty to like in this set, then, and if you didn’t latch on to a particular number, no worries, as most tracks barely scraped 2 minutes! A short and snappy, if slightly ragged and unrehearsed, set ended with a Menzingers-like “Rest Your Head On Me”. Damn fine start!

Even better was to come, though, with tour support, Sunderland’s Bigfatbig. who bounded onstage in short order and opened with “Brink Of My Sanity”, a huge rollercoaster change-of-pace number with a Pixies-ish swagger and a deliciously descending bass riff. “Let’s Get Married” followed, a flippant Peaness-like indiepop choon with a naggingly hooky chorus and undulating “Basketcase”-like riff, belted out by the impressively tonsilled (is that even a word? Don’t care!) vocalist Robyn, an irrepressible plus-sized bundle of energy, enthusiasm, and effervescence, waving her tousled pink hair around in a marshmallow blur and ferociously stomping on the stage in huge hobnail boots. “Blame Me” was a 90’s slow-fast-slow hurtle with an almost ska beat and a late pregnant pause, catching us all out, before the ebullient Robyn remarked, “we played a show earlier [today] so if we look physically fucked, [it’s because] we are! [But] we’re having the best time of our lives!”, thereafter leading the band through an apt and impassioned reading of Alanis Morissette’s slacker grunge anthem “You Oughtta Know”. The urgent snarky rocker “Shut Up” followed, Robyn then gushing, “we love Bristol! How big is that Santa in the shopping centre??!!” This marvellous set, delivered with melody, cohesion, purpose and charisma to burn, concluded with the herky-jerky New Wave-isms and thumpingly big repetitive choral chant of “Don’t Wanna Be Sad”. Quite, quite superb!

Follow that, Martha! I grabbed a list and compared notes with Stuart, nearly being caught out as Martha themselves took the stage in equally short order, and in front of a now-packed house, at 8.45. Decided at that point against abandoning my house left front row spot (with guitarist Daniel’s setlist invitingly right in front of me!) for a loo trip, as Martha launched into “Beat Perpetual”, the joyous, rollicking opener to the new album, followed by the brilliantly prescient and pointed “Every Day The Hope Gets Harder” (a title I’m nicking for my End Of Year compo CD, BTW), a punkish blast with a Clash “Tommy Gun” drumbeat finish. “Somebody made choices and led us here to these darkest of times,” the now long-haired main vocalist JC lamented by way of exposition, “But we’ve still got pro Wrestling!”, guitarist Daniel launching into a rampant, rambunctious “Wrestlemania VIII”.

 

A cracking start, but could they keep this up? Happily, the answer was yes, as Martha were rather excellent tonight; tight as the preverbal gnats’ chuff, they sounded tough, road-tested and fluidly coherent, firing their passionate, effervescent amphetamine millennial punk rock bullets with unerring accuracy, interspersing them with pointed self-empowering diatribes, usually delivered by JC. “Bubble In My Bloodstream” was an angry, growling ascending Pixies death-march, launching into a gabbling, change-of-pace ending; “Love Keeps Kicking” (preceded by JC announcing, “ strap yourselves in, we’re about to crank the thermostat!”) a snaking sinuous rocker with a Thin Lizzy dual guitar line and empowering middle 8 speech; and the breathless “Legless In Brandon” was “a love song for all the queers in the room!” A speedily harmonic “Heart Sink” and set-closing “Void” were bookended with an acapella reprise of the earlier new album title track “Please Don’t Take Me Back”, then an irresistible, incandescent “Goldman’s Detective Agency” was the highlight of a 3 song encore capping a quite marvellous set, easily the best I’ve seen this confident and rapidly maturing band.

 Grabbed Daniel’s list as well at the end, then felt guilty about swiping it in front of a stick-using girl who was sat to my right, so I grabbed JC’s for her! Good deed done, I scooped up some Bigfatbig merch from, and a brief chat with, the besieged Robyn and her partner-in-crime Katie (it’s their first UK tour! Wow, they’re that good, that soon? Yikes!), before we braved the now harder rain for a sodden drive back to the ‘don, still home relatively early at 11. Just what I needed, this; great company with Stu, 3 fine bands, a real diamond of a new find in the buoyant Bigfatbig, and the excellent Martha on absolute top form. Bloody brilliant night out!

1,178 THE HOLD STEADY, Martha, London Camden Electric Ballroom, Saturday 7th March 2020

A third annual visit to London to partake in a segment of The Hold Steady's London Weekender; but surprisingly this was one I wasn't anticipating with as much frenzied relish and the previous two... The Hold Steady, Minneapolis' rock'n'roll ruffians, inheritors to a swaggering lineage running from the likes of The Rolling Stones and early Springsteen, through The Replacements and Husker Du, all the way to the Gaslight Anthem, Menzingers and such blue-collar contemporaries, had for at least the last decade also been clear owners of the title of Greatest Rock'n’Roll Band on Planet Earth, so far as I’ve been concerned. However, a performance last time out which was initially flat, taking time to soar to usual heights, was followed with a very patchy album in 2019's "Thrashing Through The Passion", perhaps their poorest effort to date and one which honestly read like a collection of outtakes and half-formed ideas, rather than a flowing, coherent whole. Heavy is the (collective) head that wears the crown, indeed... in fact, for me THS had consequently all but ceded their title to the more lustrous and magical brilliance of Nada Surf (next Thursday's hosts at this very venue, ironically enough). So, Mr. Finn and co., what'cha gonna do (brothers) to turn the tide around, and restore my faith in The Hold Steady?

An intriguing aside to this one was the addition of Durham's C86-inflected spritely punkers Martha as support, and an announced 7 pm stage time for them saw me, suitably kitted up in shorts, kneestraps and contact lenses - it is the Hold Steady, after all, so I'm still likely to utterly lose my shit - setting off just after 3.30! Parked at Osterley and tubed in, hitting the venue for an early 6.20, well in time to take a place at the front, chat with some fellow early-comers (one of whom complimented my Nada Surf t-shirt and told me about his having once invited them to stay at his Tennessee ranch after a local gig!), and be ready for Martha's early entrance at 5 to 7. On it from the off with the racy "Wrestlemania" and the rolling, repetitive hook of "Ping", the sound was tough and full, and this ruffian band of gender warriors did it full justice. An early "Goldman's Detective Agency", my favourite Martha track, got me bopping and singing along to their effervescent bouncy guitar pop, vocal chores as usual being swapped between all 4 band members, although guitarist JC took most leads. A galloping "Horny", again featuring an insistent repetitive hook, was the penultimate highlight, drummer Nathan pronouncing, "it's an honour to support The Hold Steady; we first saw them in 2007, so it's taken this long to get here!" Well, it was worth the wait; Martha rose to the occasion good and proper, and fucking nailed this set!

Gambled on a loo break, somehow managing to squirm back through this sell-out and anticipatory crowd to my spot about 3 rows back. Dead on 8, the intro music of Boz Scaggs "Lido Shuffle" started up, eliciting some warm-up "woah-ohs" from the crowd, also reciprocated by the band and particularly vocalist Craig Finn as they took the stage. And from note one of brilliant - and brilliantly chosen - opener "Stuck Between Stations”, all my doubts fell away like scales from my eyes, disappearing as fast as the air from my lungs in the sudden yet good-natured crush. A phenomenal starter, chased in shortly after by a huge singalong for "You Can Make Him Like You". These boys know how to start a gig, no messin'...

This was again one of those rare nights when the join between band and audience was so blurred as to be imperceptible. The rock, well, rocked, with a swagger and a strut, never totally note-perfect but played with so much passion and conviction that that mattered not. And Craig Finn was everywhere... quickly as red-faced and sweaty as the rest of us (I was pretty much in full Cleo mode by the third number!), dashing hither and thither like a demented hamster, repeating vocal lines off mic with the most beaming of grins, a picture of euphoria, this little rotund, slightly receding man somehow managed to reflect the distilled essence of decades of rock'n'roll. "We went to the Clash exhibit today; I didn't know what [the Clash's lyrical references] meant, I just knew they were important..."

In all honesty, Craig's usually frequent stream-of-consciousness banter was largely absent tonight as they concentrated on the rock, the exclamation, "Oh shit, it's "Party Pit"!" being a notable exception prior to a soaring singalong rendition. In fact much of the set was air-punching, terrace-chant roof-raising singalong moshpit catnip tonight, and I stayed in throughout, immersed fully in the experience. "Sequestered In Memphis" was a swaggering delight; a plaintive "Lord, I'm Discouraged" provided a necessary mid-set breather as well as a guitar riff highlight from Tad Kubler, eliciting roars from the crowd and applause from his singer; and the frantic punk rock of "Constructive Summer" nearly saw me subsumed by the pit. "Hoodrat Friend" saw a mid-song diatribe from Craig complimenting his band and the occasion, the subsequent confetti throw as the final chorus erupted reflecting the celebratory mood, and "Resurrection" rounded out a stunning 1 1/2 hour set as swift as any of late. Encores took this to 2 hours, the usual euphoric "Killer Parties" seeing Craig lead the crowd in the inevitable chant of, “There! Is! So much Joy!!! In what we do!" And once again they proved it, sweeping away my pre-gig concerns as if they never existed.

An easy list from a friendly roadie then quick merch-stand chat with Martha's JC, and I was off, sweaty as hell and feeling like a cod - totally battered! A couple of quick tube arrivals promised a quick return to the car; however I was held for 20 minutes at Northfields - 2 stops away! - so back to the car for 11.15 and home after the painful 50mph limit on the M4 for a weary and hungry 12.45, kebab in tow. Knackered but euphoric; and I can safely say that following that stellar performance, the Hold Steady crown has been restored to its full gleaming lustre... as they say, tonight at least I was a skeptic at first but these miracles work! 

1,133 MARTHA, THE WOAHNOWS, Nervus Rex, Bristol Exchange, Friday 26th April 2019

Alumni of my heady post-redundancy rush of new band discoveries of 2016, and now regulars on any Dance Card of mine, Pity Me's hooligan bunch of self-confessed gender warrior punx Martha announced a tour in support of new album "Love Keeps Kicking", so I booked for the Bristol Exchange date promptly before it sold out! Said new album is another little firecracker of energetic guitar-propelled tuneage, the flippant 3-pronged vocal attack never straying far from the usual Martha subject matter of the awkwardness of relationships in the 2000s, so this gig promised to be a little corker as well.

I was joined by Martha addicts Andy and Stuart, plus Andy's mate Mandie, heading off early to secure decent parking, but parking up easily on our new Exchange spot after a swift drive down. Before doors too, so had a drink in the pub next door (well, they did... nowt for the designated driver, thanks!) before hitting the venue about 7.45. A quick squint in Specialist Subject Records, a small shop above the venue, before popping in for openers Nervus Rex. Clearly fans of dinosaurs judging by their matching masks, but not of rehearsals, if their "songs" and "performance" (and I use both words in their loosest sense) were anything to go by. Folks, I get the home-made DIY vibe, I do, but playing as if you'd not only just been introduced to each other 5 minutes before going onstage, but only just picked up your instruments for the first time ever (!) at that time as well isn't "cute" or "charming", it's frankly an insult to your audience. Luckily, I wasn't one of them for long, bailing out to the bar after suffering a couple of their horribly amateurish 5th form dirge-like numbers.

Back in for The Woahnows, though; this 3-piece had intrigued last time out at this venue with some frantic MC4/ Senseless Things strumalong pop, so I was expecting more of the same... initially this was the case, with opener "World Explodes" a brisk, earnest emo-core opener in a Modern Baseball style, but it was "No One Else", next up, that was the real surprise. Slower, tougher and punchier, this was a big robust powerpop tune with a soaring chorus reminiscent of The Posies or Redd Kross, and totally hooked me and reeled me in. The subsequent set was very varied but all fine quality; a couple of other chunky powerpop numbers (the harmonic "Hippy Shit" recalling the excellent "I'd Rather Be" by Myracle Brah), some light-touch slow moments to break up buoyant indie jangle, and a final "angry pop punk song" in "Cold", which also impressed last time out. Between numbers, long-haired and slightly androgynous vocalist Tim was an engaging presence, throwing the headliners some back-handed compliments ("thanks to Martha for bringing so many people to see them that they have to see us!" and "[Martha] are lovely; there's 4 of them and there's at least 3 lovely people!") before admitting, "they've got so many bangers in their set." A fair few in this short, snappy and increasingly impressive Woahnows set now too!

Grabbed a list from Tim and promised to grab a copy of their debut CD afterwards, then Stu and I did a loo-break relay (well, that's a necessity in a sold-out venue with no proper "gents", just a urinal-free "gender-neutral" toilet... hmm...) to keep our front row spots for Martha. After a fiddly soundcheck, they took the stage at 10, busting into newie "Wrestlemania VIII" with vim and vigour, guitarist Daniel leading the charge with his high-pitched, yearning vocal style. As before, lead vocal-swapping was a feature of the set, other guitarist Jonathan taking a more nuanced though no less passionate lead for the singalong "Chekhov's Hangnail", and diminutive bassist Naomi lending her aitch-shredding, "t"-dropping Minnie Mouse on helium style for "Supermarket Song", a sterling effort in spite of her clearly suffering with sinus trouble and making increasing recourse to a tissue box, secreted onstage, throughout.

This was again a damn fine set of Martha's brisk, guitar-heavy, C86-influenced Buzzcocks-like lovelorn punk pop, the band this time cutting out much of the between-song banter and politicking in favour of delivering the rock. Newie "Sight For Sore Eyes" followed a couple of onstage band meetings "at the same time!", "Curly And Raquel" was a tight, punchy mid-set highlight, and "Do Nothing" a slower-burn, Pixies-ish grungy workout building to a noisy climax. By comparison, new CD title track "Love Keeps Kicking" felt almost 60's-ish melodic Merseybeat-like pop, but again my fave was "Goldman's Detective Agency", the bouncy and racy descending refrain and 3-part harmonies a feature of this, IMHO Martha's best song. Great stuff!

An hour's set was topped with an encore featuring (very!) oldie "Sycamore" and frantic terrace-chant closer "Christine". I'd been bopping near the front throughout, and reached over past the ubiquitous Jeff (who'd been resting his ulcerated foot, instead using his usual front-row spot to sketch Naomi) to grab a list, getting it signed by the Martha folks before making good on my promise, picking up The Woahnows CD from a merch stand-bound Tim and leaving him some powerpop recommendations for his Spotify playlist. A swift, footy-trivia propelled drive home saw me dropping folks off and hitting home just after midnight, following another splendid Martha gig!.

1,045 MARTHA, Supp. Joyce Manor, Happy Accidents, Goodboy, Southampton Joiner’s Arms, Thursday 6th July 2017

A scorching jaunt down to the South Coast on a sun-kissed evening; not for sunbathing, though, but gigging! This was another chance to see one of my favourite discoveries of last year in Martha, Pity Me’s ruffian bunch of crunchy post C86/ emo/ popcore purveyors, albeit this time supporting California’s emo/ pop-punk lot Joyce Manor. Next week’s Bristol date coincides with another gig (ironically also in Brizzle), and I just didn’t fancy the carnage that is Oxford traffic and parking, where there was an alternative!

So, t’was down to Southampton Joiners again, a venue fast becoming one of my favourites, not least due to the ample (and free) street parking virtually outside! So, after parking up an underarm stone’s throw from the front door, I hit the venue at 10 to 8 with openers Goodboy already midway through their set. No great loss, this; despite sporting an entertaining elastic-limbed motormouth frontman, they were a bit hard on the ears with some rather clumsy screamy emo, which, rather uncomfortably,  almost bordered on that late 90’s nu metal sound. Don’t give up the day job (or college course, I suppose), boys…

Much better was to come, however, in Happy Accidents, next band up. Recommended by Mr. Andy Fenton, and I could immediately see why, as this trio set about a gauche but charming ramshackly C86-esque jangly indiepop set, recalling the likes of Razorcuts and even early Soup Dragons, with harmonies in their heads and sunshine in their tunes. Then, just as I thought I had them sussed out as enjoyable Talulah Gosh wannabees, the bespectacled, angular vocalist (who reminded me of Silver Sun’s James Broad) announced “Facts And Figures” as being, “about being bombarded with all the horrendous events in the news and becoming sanitised to them,” the subsequent slow-burn, morose intro hinting at more musical and lyrical depth, before exploding into a more characteristic brisk jangle fest. Good stuff overall, and if some songs seemed to feature more words than they could comfortably accommodate, that’s no bad thing either!

A quick and fun chat with HA drummer Phoebe and her dad (!), manning their merch stand, whiled away the interval before I took a spot down the front, stage right, for Martha’s entrance at 9. As before, long-haired guitarist Dan took yelping vocals for the strident opener “Christine”, before ceding to fellow guitarist Jonathan for the frantic, repetitive chant of “Chekhov’s Hangnail”. The sound mix was a little bass-heavy from my position (which was, admittedly, down the front with my head in the monitors!), but that didn’t stop me from shaking a couple of dodgy knees to this set of amphetamine-fast, vocalist-swapping, heavy-guitar yet tuneful and thoroughly fun singalong indiepop, and getting a serious sweat on (almost Full Cleo!). Not as much, however, as a fellow punter, who afterwards looked as if he’d taken a shower with his clothes on, and enthusiastically admitted to me, “every time I see Martha I totally lose my shit!” Good man!

Not only do this band play it hard and fast, however, they’ve got some points to make; on Gender Politics (drummer Nathan introducing “Sleeping Beauty” as being, “about how forcing somebody to conform to gender roles is fucked up!”), LGBT equality (the excellent, later “1967, I Miss You I’m Lonely” being introduced with, “about how love knows no borders,” prompting an, “aaah,” from this cynical old soul), and conservation (diminutive bassist Naomi commenting on their donation box for an animal sanctuary with, “[the horses] have got big bet bills – no, vet bills!”). The splendid “Bubble In My Bloodstream” featured a Pixies-ish chuntering opening, before switching up gears to a breathless, gabbling sprint finish, but that was topped by my set highlight, the subsequent “Goldman’s Detective Agency”, some brilliant guitar riffery underpinning a helium vocal from Jonathan and an infectiously catchy hook. C’mon, Gumshoe!

Final number “Do Nothing” featured an uncharacteristically slow-burn “Debaser” style bass riff and Dan’s yearning vocal over a stripped back base, building to a wall of noise crescendo before the typical frantic finish, an entirely appropriate conclusion to a breathless and splendid set. Great stuff, and a chat with merch stand-bound Jonathan and my fellow sweaty dancer afterwards rounded things off nicely, before I briefly checked out “headliners” Joyce Manor. Despite one nice, Menzingers-like number, they had an oddly dated emo sound which wouldn’t have been out of place in Reading Festival 2002’s “Concrete Jungle” tent alongside the likes of Hot Rod Circuit and Saves The Day, so I gave their popular set 4 numbers then hit the road. I’d already seen my headliners!

998 MARTHA, The Woahnows, Two White Cranes, Bristol Exchange, Saturday 23rd July 2016

 

A very recent discovery for me, this lot: with the “Sword of Damocles” of potential redundancy hanging over my head earlier this year, I had neither the financial wherewithal nor the desire to look out for new and intriguing bands. However, oddly enough, when said redundancy was confirmed, I resolved to play “catch up” with a bit of my payout, and search out some new listening material. This particular bunch of young Durham oiks came courtesy of a recommendation from the esteemed Mr. Stuart “Langers”; I liked what I heard on Youtube, and promptly picked up their CDs, including current one “Blisters In The Pit Of My Heart”, finding it an amphetamine-fast rush of joyous and hooky indie pop with overlays of loud and crunchy powerpop guitar, galloping along on a swelling tide of bratty call and response male/ female vocals. As if Seafood were a C86 band, or like a Talulah Gosh on US popcore steroids… either way, enough to not only feature on heavy rotation in the car, but also enough for me to book tix for this timely Bristol gig!

Andy Fenton, being familiar with the band through “Indietracks”, was up for this too, so he picked me up on a sun-drenched Saturday evening for a swift drive down to the Exchange, finding venue and street parking easily and having a drink in the beer garden of the Stag And Hounds next door, declining their invite to join them for their hardcore punk band evening! We then hung around outside the Exchange after getting our entry wristbands, bumping into Bristol friends Kiron and Alison before wandering into this weirdly shaped and early-doors well-attended venue for openers Two White Cranes. A solo girl vocalist/ guitarist for a couple of numbers (one bolshy Rodney Allen-like original, and a cover of The Beautiful South’s “Prettiest Eyes”), she was then joined by her drummer colleague for a swift set of twee, gauche and partly formed indie/ US 90’s college pop, simple and pleasant enough but chronically unrehearsed. “Sorry I keep playing the wrong notes,” she remarked after another bum note, “but it’s part of the charm…” Erm, no, it’s not…

The Woahnows, up in short order at 9.15, were in no mood to fuck about; kicking into a wildly pounding and amphetamine fast rocking opener recalling Annie Christian, this young trio (featuring a replacement bassist called Matt, who kept announcing, “I’m Phil Randall!”) kicked into overdrive with a snappy set of Mega City Four/ Senseless Things frantic strumalong pop, often featuring songs which started fast and got faster! A new number (“Cold” on the set-list, but featuring a soaring hook of, “best defense/ best of friends”) was easily their best one, a rampant slice of post-popcore with an anthemic chorus, and they then brought Dan from Martha onstage for a cover of one of the headliner’s numbers! Promising stuff overall.

A swift 20 minute turnaround saw Martha take the stage at 10 in front of a rammed and enthusiastic sellout young crowd. Three scruffy indie boys and a female bassist with hot pants and a Minnie Mouse vocal delivery, they were also “on it” from the outset, guitarist Dan belting into the strident, in your face opener “Christine” and the equally breathless “Ping”, next up. Said female bassist Naomi suggested, “the crowd’s well organised in height order, but take a look around [so everyone can see],” before she took turns at lead vocals for the chuntering 6^th form angst of “1997, Passing In The Hallway”. One key feature of Martha’s performance, in fact, was that all 4 members took turns at lead vocals, with Naomi’s vocals flippant and haughtily detached, Dan and other guitarist Jonathan both echoing the high-pitched, yearning and passionate vocal delivery of Dashboard Confessional’s Chris Carraba, and even drummer Nathan getting in on the act. Nathan also featured the best line in song intros (“this songs about when you’re young, you’re not conservative then you get more conservative as you get older, then when you’re older still you’re not conservative at all – what’s that about?” being an entertainingly rambling example) as well as his utterly judicious bass drum message “I miss EU, I’m lonely”, echoing Martha’s song of the (almost) same name, the number which in fact (following my set highlight, a superb penultimate “Curly And Raquel”) concluded their swift and tremendous 45 minute set of amped-up powerful, tight and punchy indiepop.

A couple of equally frantic encores saw a fine performance to a conclusion, and I briefly congratulated the band on our way out, before a trip home delayed by an accident right on our M4 junction. Nonetheless, a superb evening out in the company of a buoyant and hugely promising new band. Good shout, “Langers”!