DANCE Bentley Rhythm Ace
Glasgow: The Garage, Fri 17 Oct ** he
They might be gallivanting about the same ballpark as The Chemical Brothers, but with the help of a makeshift themed stage set and a couple of comedy wigs, those BRA boys certainly manage to mark off their territory effectively. They're the gang over in the corner who look like they’re having more fun than you or anyone else. Fortunately, it’s infectious.
The Bentley Rhythm Ace crossover story begins with recent single ’Bentley’s Gonna Sort You Outl’. Despite the title’s play on The Chemical Brothers' most famous sample, it moves to a different rhythm. Where the Chemicals rush in with thunderous beats, the Bentleys deliver a slinky, continental grower with a retro feel and a lot of space to move about in. Its sinuous groove has the night’s highest recognition factor, provoking spontaneous hands-in-the-air hyper-enthusiasm and gurning expressions all round. Clearly, the drugs do work.
Just like bass player Richard March's previous band Pop Will Eat Itself, BRA are good little thieves. They snatch
Bentley Rhythm Ace are gonna sort you out
from the guitar-friendly realms of big beat, top up with Josh Wink's orgasmic pulse and garnish with the dress sense of The Tubes. Playing to a studenty, party-fiend crowd, the drag outfits go down a storm, as does the front-of—a-jeep piece of stagecraft, behind which grinning Mike spins his wheels of steel, while the windscreen wipers waver like a needle on a dial. And the all-in-one PVC bodysuit is just divine, darling. Not to mention some endurance feat, given the rather cosy atmosphere.
In one sense this is music for those wacky and highly imaginative people who like to steal traffic cones, but given the sustained euphoric rush of the whole set — not a minute too long, a minute too short - it's a cartoony vibe which can well be indulged. It makes watching what’s happening on the stage seem like a worthwhile pursuit, not for some fantastic Orbital-style lightshow, but because there's an element of performance to keep you going through the relative lulls in the boogie-on- down proceedings.
One thing: air raid sirens seem to be a bit of a feature. Is this the Bentleys' sonic warning to prepare for their barrage of beats? No need to gimme shelter - let the shells rain down and the battle to be the biggest and bossest of beat combos commence. (Fiona Shepherd)
turqu0ise, almost vaudeVille setting of the Old
Glasgow, Old Fruitmarket, Fri 17 Oct * t t A t
For the co|0ur deaf among you, Tindersticks' songs come in a number of shades, most of them to be found between green and indigo. We're
aquamarine, sky. Blue, blue, blue, dummy, as in the moon, the Nile, and song sung. Everybody knows one after all.
Stuart Staples knows plenty and if after three wonderful LPs' worth his band continue to be perceived as misery With a backbeat by many a shiny, happy critic, why shOuId he care?
Mooching like Leonard Rossiter playing Montgomery Clift, wearing what can only be described as a cardigan, and dancing (yes, dancing') on occasion, Staples is as close to mesmerising as one can be Without moon walking or Juggling fire-eating quadrupeds, It's that sonorous VOICC" Al Green by way of Joy DiVision, Nick Drake Via Nina Simone, Bobby Hebb meets . . why, you get the idea. And a slap With a wet fish for anyone who dares mention Vick Reeves' club singer. Hush.
No full orchestra tonight in what would have been the appropriate,
Fruitmarket This time, Tindersticks are
a seven-piece who shuffle the deck as
needs be. There's frenzied Violin on , 'Fast One‘, xylophone tinkling on 'If I
Was Your Man’, and foot-on-the-
monitors axemanship on 'Rented Rooms'.
Okay, the “It \‘JJS d f'b
Tindersticks are surely the antitheSis of ;
rock. This is a band that roll With s0ul, walt'z With the blues (what else), and rarely dance Willi 4/4 time. If they were from France no doubt there’d be boulevards named in their honour As it is they come from Nottingham and don't even have a lay-by to their credit. Not that you suspect they crave glamour oi glory or showbiz frippery. They do look dapper though, togged Out by gentleman’s Outfitter Timothy Everest of London -— that’s for all you Face readers.
Three colours, then Two brothers. One nun. Not much of a crossword puzzle, but it's all over now, baby. (Rodger Evans)
ROCK Motorhead Glasgow: Barrowland, Sat 18 Oct **
It's been six long years since Mot0rhead last showed their warty faces round these parts. To the mulletheads, bikers and assorted central belt rockers who are out in force tonight, it seems a lot longer. Barrowland reeks like a Glastonbury toilet, but no one’s complaining.
Back in the 805, there were two kinds of noisy music: heavy metal, With its poodle perms and Jack Daniels, and hard rock bands, the leather-clad beasts of the Apocalypse. The kings of the latter were Motorhead, and their national anthem was 'Ace Of Spades’. Now, long after the rest of the rabble (Guns 'n’ Roses, The Cult, Whitesnake) have crawled away to burn in solo proiect hell, or tried to re-invent themselves, Lemmy has brought his bunch back with their first new album in years.
You'd expect Sacrifice to be a debauched trip to hell and back, powering down the Highway of Doom With mountains of drugs and nubile 'lovelies'. Tragically, what you get is a one-way ticket to retirement.
Three classic songs belted out would be tremendous monster rock cabaret, but hours and hours of relentless grinding and throaty rasps only serves to further illustrate the difference between the passable and the once great.
But just as you’re considering the door, they drop in a claSSic like 'Bomber’ or ’lvletropolis' lUSl to tempt y0u back Motorhead know what they're doing, and if there’s one thing all those years on the road have taught them, it’s how to put on a show: floodlighting, pyrotechnics and textbook rock posturing are all here in spade-lulls. Just try not to think about how old they are.
It's about time something interesting happened to the old rock beast, but Motorhead are content to live back in the hellish T980s
'Are you ready for more rock ’n’ roll?’
' demands Lemmy 'Not ’arf’ comes the
reply. (Craig Reece)
Motorhead: know what they're doing
STAR RATINGS *ir‘k‘k‘k Unmissable it t it it Very good * it * Worth a shot * k Below average it You've been warned
23 Oct-6 Nov I997THELIST43