Sunday 15th November - The Croft, Bristol
Rajinder was almost impossible to pin down, the man was a blaze of cut n paste directions, dealing out shards of kitten claws and bubbly statics ... Utterly lovely cattle-trough drumming and hammered chime, the odd sickly fx tangle coupled with some amusing off stage outbreaks… all stapled together with lashings of skull diving riffage.... Northampton beware.
The one man Family Battle Snake was all rich electronic gravy... a warm landscape full of duelling textures swarming beneath medicating signatures. Gaseous vents and wallpaper peel, the speakers all sway-bladed summers, and the leaky fluid of memory.
The Hair Police excelled, starting out with a noxious hamburger lady hangover, smarting from its rheumatic joints... then body launched thrash missiles. Mike Connelly's vox slipping from horrid gargle to groping chasm. As he mangled his guitar, drums and noise salvos exploded all around, falling back into more obsidian waters. The drummer making his skins all sick elastic, the noise-ster to the left covering it in blue lit fly execution, broken piping and dentist drill chills. Then just as the queasy jumble was slipping pleasurably between the ears it was straight back into 100 percent hardcore fuckery that reduced Connelly's guitar to three strings… brain splattering momentums that were as lean as a razor hipped super model choking on salad ... I practically threw myself at the merch stall...