16th June - The Croft, Bristol
A Sri Lankan fundraiser with lots of mystery bands... most were of the folksy persuasion which we checked out briefly... A few tasty diversions were had, but the main room seemed to be where it was at... and after the 'Felt' like chords of a solo McDowell (who I must say, singlehandedly captivated us with his guitar mastery) the Dogface Sockets dark cabaret of words and jarring shapes seriously stole our attention ... Hilariously too! …
The guitars spiky, whizzing to differing angles, Mini’s drumming gleefully kinetic, stumbling around that spurring guitar and vocal delivery as Jonathan’s voice darted from sinister creak to insane merriment… The drums enhanced the lunacy… pointing the punchlines, tweaking the dark humour in loose kettle bounces and shivering cymbal kisses…sort of Tiger Lillies-esque, sometimes shifting into Comus like territories but never too dire… Mr Olivetti leaned into my ear saying it was the best thing he'd seen all year… and they defo had a similar effect on me as they oozed with an English eccentricity, the likes of which I haven’t seen since the Cardiacs, Thinking Fellers, Stump or less familiar Noseflutes… Those imaginative word weaves and Aubrey Beardsley contours lodging oddly in the mind…great fun … Very tempted to catch more of the magic at the Folk House next month…
The headliners filled the stage with a mass of guitars… McDowell's front man making a re-appearance… the sound a mangle of Floyd-esque guitar licks, proggy edges and a fair bit of pedal distortion… slipping into druggier hazings, sounding uncanningly like Ultra Vivid Scene, the sonics full of jangly paraphrasing and climbing indie sensibilities, the vocal daubs all shimmering slurs… The last track rocketing off, people in front cartwheeling silver foil to the stoked vibe… the interlocking combos drawing out a psychoactive fuzz, spurs from the tambourine glinting in the soupy reverb…
A Sri Lankan fundraiser with lots of mystery bands... most were of the folksy persuasion which we checked out briefly... A few tasty diversions were had, but the main room seemed to be where it was at... and after the 'Felt' like chords of a solo McDowell (who I must say, singlehandedly captivated us with his guitar mastery) the Dogface Sockets dark cabaret of words and jarring shapes seriously stole our attention ... Hilariously too! …
The guitars spiky, whizzing to differing angles, Mini’s drumming gleefully kinetic, stumbling around that spurring guitar and vocal delivery as Jonathan’s voice darted from sinister creak to insane merriment… The drums enhanced the lunacy… pointing the punchlines, tweaking the dark humour in loose kettle bounces and shivering cymbal kisses…sort of Tiger Lillies-esque, sometimes shifting into Comus like territories but never too dire… Mr Olivetti leaned into my ear saying it was the best thing he'd seen all year… and they defo had a similar effect on me as they oozed with an English eccentricity, the likes of which I haven’t seen since the Cardiacs, Thinking Fellers, Stump or less familiar Noseflutes… Those imaginative word weaves and Aubrey Beardsley contours lodging oddly in the mind…great fun … Very tempted to catch more of the magic at the Folk House next month…
The headliners filled the stage with a mass of guitars… McDowell's front man making a re-appearance… the sound a mangle of Floyd-esque guitar licks, proggy edges and a fair bit of pedal distortion… slipping into druggier hazings, sounding uncanningly like Ultra Vivid Scene, the sonics full of jangly paraphrasing and climbing indie sensibilities, the vocal daubs all shimmering slurs… The last track rocketing off, people in front cartwheeling silver foil to the stoked vibe… the interlocking combos drawing out a psychoactive fuzz, spurs from the tambourine glinting in the soupy reverb…
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