Sonic Sanctuary - Thursday 4th Feb - The Croft Bristol
Xulsigiae's set was a grungy pleasure, even if I missed a massive chunk, Dsic spewing out the sonic dentistry, the guitarist cutting out Arto comparisons, mopping up the fuzzy edges with his fret candy and a drummer knocking the shit out of his kit - a totally head on vibe... relentless right up to the frazzled end.
Following on from the above, Don Bear were the rawest I've ever seen them, the guitar sounding like falling icecaps, the keypads packed with broken intrigues full of Natures Mortes disaffection. The creeping narcotic of the 'monster was sung to', all sodium soaked dispositions and stark landscaping... Their debut album is definitely heading for a write up very soon.
In the bar, Ginsberg was being recited to fractured jazz angles, holy, holy junk...
Team Brick dazzled... leaping from lunatic vox to a hairy pie of circuit bends and sine singe... like listening to 14 album's worth of great ideas, as inspiration was crank-handled into view only to disperse into equally tasty shapings... a bewildering array of textures, taper tongued or bloated out on crunchy valve squelch... saxophone leaking into the low ebb of feedback, really quiet keystrokes and whispering biscuit wares contrasting nicely with the ear scorpions...
Back in the bar, electro-acoustic slivers replaced the poetry... the double bass, all maimed scrapings and the brassware stuck up with phlegm-a-goric canker . All manner of refuse laid out on the table, interconnected by a labyrinth of springs and contact mic(s)... Stockhausen with a circle of bleached hair supplying the cerebral glue for the other instruments. It's a pity Paul couldn't make it as this sort of thing really floats his boat...
Back in the band room, BlueSabbath/BlackFiji launched straight into it, howling over a tape player of mangled machine parts, a bombardment of gtrs and daisy chained fx's that poured out the brightest and most infectious of energies...
the beats upping the ante, filling your head with too many perspectives, everything going mental, like a mutant techno, filled with evangelistic sun scream and raw data... giving winter chills a good kicking.
Xulsigiae's set was a grungy pleasure, even if I missed a massive chunk, Dsic spewing out the sonic dentistry, the guitarist cutting out Arto comparisons, mopping up the fuzzy edges with his fret candy and a drummer knocking the shit out of his kit - a totally head on vibe... relentless right up to the frazzled end.
Following on from the above, Don Bear were the rawest I've ever seen them, the guitar sounding like falling icecaps, the keypads packed with broken intrigues full of Natures Mortes disaffection. The creeping narcotic of the 'monster was sung to', all sodium soaked dispositions and stark landscaping... Their debut album is definitely heading for a write up very soon.
In the bar, Ginsberg was being recited to fractured jazz angles, holy, holy junk...
Team Brick dazzled... leaping from lunatic vox to a hairy pie of circuit bends and sine singe... like listening to 14 album's worth of great ideas, as inspiration was crank-handled into view only to disperse into equally tasty shapings... a bewildering array of textures, taper tongued or bloated out on crunchy valve squelch... saxophone leaking into the low ebb of feedback, really quiet keystrokes and whispering biscuit wares contrasting nicely with the ear scorpions...
Back in the bar, electro-acoustic slivers replaced the poetry... the double bass, all maimed scrapings and the brassware stuck up with phlegm-a-goric canker . All manner of refuse laid out on the table, interconnected by a labyrinth of springs and contact mic(s)... Stockhausen with a circle of bleached hair supplying the cerebral glue for the other instruments. It's a pity Paul couldn't make it as this sort of thing really floats his boat...
Back in the band room, BlueSabbath/BlackFiji launched straight into it, howling over a tape player of mangled machine parts, a bombardment of gtrs and daisy chained fx's that poured out the brightest and most infectious of energies...
the beats upping the ante, filling your head with too many perspectives, everything going mental, like a mutant techno, filled with evangelistic sun scream and raw data... giving winter chills a good kicking.
Comments