MUSIC | Reviews
NOISE/ EXPERIMENTAL/ ELECTRONIC ALL-DAYER WE WORSHIP THE SUN The Art School, Glasgow, Sat 1 Jun ●●●●●
Nurtured by independent promoters, DIY micro- labels and alternative venues, Glasgow’s underground music scene remains in rosy-cheeked good health. An all-day jamboree of live music and DJs, plus a barbecue and jumble sale, We Worship The Sun offers noise terror, punk jollies and absurd- ist improv in a laidback and friendly atmosphere. From the Winning Sperm Party stable, Smack Wizards have grown into one of Glasgow’s most enjoyable and inventive trios. Bassist Waldo clearly worships at the Church of Mike Watt (hell, who doesn’t?), lubricating his driving riffs with cavalier fretboard sweeps and juicy grooves. Noma breaks out his trusty hairdryers and electric razors for a beautifully-executed drone set. Using nothing more than the pick-ups of a stringless bass guitar and a clean amp to process his sound sources, Noma calmly works his way through different combina- tions of gear, inquisitively experimenting with the positioning of his buzzing razors and humming dryers. Dick Fifty unites thrash urchins Ultimate Thrush with Palms’s Julia Scott. Having learned from Golden Teacher, the brothers Pitt conjure mutant Afro-house grooves while Scott throws in shards of no-wave guitar and the clarinettist squawks and does the hula-hoop. Rough around the edges, but an exciting prospect. A gloriously cracked Acrid Lactations set (above) takes in sea-sick accordion, wonky tape chunder and an amplified toy car. It reaches a sublimely silly climax with Susan Fitzpatrick fervently reading from the Bible in a Pam Ayers voice.
Okishima Island Tourist Association carve
their noise with horribly exquisite precision. Under a relentless strobe light, Lea ‘Kylie Minoise’ Cum- mings and Sarah Glass build a teeming mass of metallic distortion and high-pressure screech. This sinister ritual finally explodes in a dark ecstasy of ragged throats and writhing bodies. Having swapped the noise-rock fury of Divorce for
the more melodic Palms, Sinead Young has found an outlet for that wonderfully Scottish roar of hers in World Peace. Swaggering basslines and frisky guitar jabs further animate their raw punky romps. Both Io Pan and Kenny Love inhabit a space
where noise and electronica converge. Channel- ling the crepuscular industrial of Coil and Raime's tar-pit techno, Io Pan magicks glacial drones, yellow gasses and acid-rain percussion. Love, meanwhile, reimagines techno from the databanks of a cyborg whose circuits have overloaded. Stefan Blomei- er’s acid house and cosmic disco leads us back to the dancefloor, before Undulating Gland bring the day to an exhilarating close with an in-your-face set of breathless garage rock bomp. (Stewart Smith)
80 THE LIST 13 Jun–11 Jul 2013
N A T H G U A N C A M W E R D N A
MATH ROCK NOMEANSNO Electric Circus, Edinburgh, Tue 28 May ●●●●● PROG ROCK RUSH SECC, Glasgow, Thu 30 May ●●●●●
‘I hate wankers,’ declared guitarist Rob Wright apropos of nothing, with a wry grin. Who was the Canadian punk’s tirade in reference to? Surely not his adoring crowd, who helped the band produce a show to remember. As one hirsute stage invader attempted to marshall the crowd into crowdsurfing position, Tom Holliston unceremoniously barged the interloper back into the pit. The mayhem continued. This was a ridiculously good gig by an unfeasibly great band amidst unexpectedly energetic circumstances. All in their fifties, the trio of Canadian math rock progenitors – Holliston, Wright and the latter’s drumming brother John – are no respecters of the ‘pale tribute act’ status afforded fellow old- stagers. Selecting songs from their 30-year career, they blended angry rock snarl with vulgarly sexual bass grind on ‘Slave’ and ‘The Tower’, while ‘The World Wasn’t Built in a Day’ evoked a slow-loping walk through mean city streets at night. Their Ramones love was indulgently well-exercised (‘I Don’t Care’ and ‘Sheena is a Punk Rocker’ both appeared), but otherwise this was a show built on defiant originality and emotion. (David Pollock)
Rush are a mere 45 years into their career, but it’s hard to tell. The Canadian prog-rock overlords’ live set is three hours long, with no support act for padding. It’s a slow start tonight, with the trio mining their cheese and synth-riddled 80s canon. ‘Subdivisions’ kicks it off, but its weak backbone and pop veneer isn’t exactly the raucous opener most gigs cry out for. The addition of bouncing ‘Limelight’ – dropped for their previous four UK dates – livens the bums-on-seats crowd, with Alex Lifeson’s incisive yet understated guitar injecting the set with a shot of adrenaline straight to the vein. There are customary drum solo cameos, too, from Neil Peart, who cements his place as one of rock’s most proficient – and modest – sticksmen, whilst Lee defies his 59 earth-years and spurts out the window-smashingly high voice he is so famed for. Chuck in every air drummer’s wet dream – ‘Tom Sawyer’ – and you’ve got one happy audience. I’ve not even mentioned the amusing videos, expansive stage set-up and the incandescent pyro. Three hours? Four next time, please. (Chris Cope) ■ See list.co.uk for a longer version of this review
PUNK ROCK FUCKED UP, TITUS ANDRONICUS AND METZ SWG3, Glasgow, Tue 28 May ●●●●● INDIE-ROCK/GRUNGE MUDHONEY, MEAT PUPPETS AND METZ 02 ABC, Glasgow, Wed 5 Jun ●●●●●
If you know anything about Fucked Up live shows, you know frontman Damian ‘Pink Eyes’ Abraham likes to get down among his people. Two minutes in, the shirt is off and he’s dispensing sweaty hugs, high fives and photo poses. Abraham is a charismatic frontman – maybe
even too charismatic. While it packs a satisfying hardcore punch, at times it feel like the other four bandmembers are just a steadily pounding backdrop for his theatricals. That said, they’re a cut above your average punk rockers. Material from their upcoming album sounds promising and politicised, while ‘Running on Nothing’ and ‘The Other Shoe’ from 2011 rock opera David Comes to Life form energetic and emotive high points. It’s not an act many bands would like to follow, but Jersey five-piece Titus Andronicus make a damn good go of it, despite evidence of ‘touritis’ setting in. They might love a good riff, but there’s a solid foundation of interesting songwriting below such flourishes and an impassioned urgency at the beating heart of these songs. (Laura Ennor)
Don that plaid shirt and party like it’s 1992: those kings of Seattle sludge, Mudhoney, are in town, supported by veteran peyote-punks Meat Puppets and new generation Sub Poppers Metz. Meat Puppets are simply magical, their psychedelic country-punk and funky desert jams taking on new power live. Classics like ‘Lake of Fire’ and Up on the Sun’ sound gorgeously epic.
Curt Kirkwood is one of the great psychedelic guitar heroes, lacing his classic rock riffs and twangy Buck Owens licks with trippy delay trails and mirage-like colour. A Scottish headline show can’t come soon enough.
Mudhoney play a long, but thoroughly entertaining set, in which new material such as ‘I Like it Small’ sits comfortably alongside 25-year-old fuzz-nuggets like the immortal ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’.
Mark Arm is a fantastic frontman, especially when
he puts down the guitar to strut and prance like a goofier Iggy, while Steve Turner’s guitar playing is a model of snotty garage rock flair. (Stewart Smith)