Dubbed The Big Shoe event by Dave Skott (Release the Bats), this summer festival of music was a fine example of the creative vibe in Southern California's underground music scene.  It was also a series of "firsts" for me -- first time seeing some of these bands live; first time being at The Troubadour and first time to really size up and gage the Hollywood scene in regards to live music events.

The Troubadour is an interesting venue. Located in the more hip part of West Hollywood away from the prostitutes and drug dealers; it has a certain amount of surprising European charm...until you meet the staff. Perhaps they're used to dealing with drunken frat boys and doped up Hollywood drama queens; but the staff at the Troubadour were less then friendly and boarded on being rude. Although I do understand the some times necessary need to look into people's bags; there's a non-pissy way to do it. After having them go through my purse and my camera case, a bit of a hassle over my out of state driver's license; they weren't sure they were going to let me in because they generally don't allow cameras into that venue. They also wanted to quiz me on the box of Magazines I had brought as giveaways.  They were suspicious (of what I'll never know). They said, "well, you can only go in with your camera if its ok with the bands." Of course it's ok with the bands. Unlike mainstream twits, most  underground bands realize that photos of their live events usually equal good publicity.  What seemed like years later, after I got past the boarder patrol at the door; I was again asked for my I.D. when I went to the bar to get a Coke. Puzzled, I said, "I've already done this I.D. thing with the door guy, and all I want is a Coke." But no no, I had to present it again to pay for an over priced carbonated non-alcoholic drink. Cheers!

Beyond the bar was a separate area for the stage. An open two story room situated in a rather oblong space that felt odd with no real seating inside (much like the EMP in Seattle). This is very unfortunate and I'll never understand why people have live music venues built this way. When people got tired of standing they had no choice but to leave the area and the bands on stage. The thought of standing through five band sets was not inviting and only the bands with the most charisma were able to hold onto a large majority of the audience for any length of time.

Stuck with the first slot, San Diego's Fallen019 took the stage and attempted to rouse the interest of the early attendees. They played bold, hard-edged industrial-guitar goth that had a slight NIN feel although at times, the yelling on the choruses seemed to be a bit too loud and a bit off key. Their music alone was not enough to carry them. Their stage presence needed a bit of pizzazz. Each member of the band simply stood there and played their instruments which, especially under these circumstances, left them with only a handful of interested onlookers. Even I eventually wandered off to the front bar to wait for the next band.

In almost complete contrast, Crush Violets took the stage next and charisma simply oozed out of vocalist Eddie as he danced, dramatically gestured, posed and strutted from the opening song til the last. Elias and David, who round out this three-man LA band and are obviously competent musicians were not as interesting to watch although David did transition between bass and keyboard throughout the show. If we could get everyone to put as much energy into it as Eddie does, I think we'd have a winning combination. The music of Crush Violets is seductive goth rock with punchy tempos and good melodic hook lines. They have the potential to be great if they could only find a drummer. And yes, nothing personal but here I go again on my anti-drum machine rant. I cannot help it. The small, repetitive thump-thump-crash of a drum machine just cannot give you the intensity and energy of a live drummer who can, at will, increase or decrease the volume and severity of what he's playing based on the crowd, the venue and the specific mood of the evening. And this is what I missed with Crush Violets. The chorus would swell and rise and Eddie would be doing something dramatic and I'd be anticipating a tremendous drum break and... eh... I got a wee little drum "thump kick-a thump thump". Speaking to Eddie afterwards he commented that he was disappointed in the sound and that the drum machine was no where near as loud as it should have been.  Indeed - having it louder would have helped, but I don't think that's the solution. Having said that, and hoping the band will forgive my small complaint, Crush Violets are definitely a band to watch. If they keep at it I expect we'll hear some great things from them. In the meantime I'm going to find an wealthy investor to start a drum school for the underground (wink).

I'm still uncertain if Happy Death Men, who if I'm not mistaken take their name from an Echo and the Bunnymen song,  is John Koviak's new band in place of Sub Version or if this was just a one-off project (there seems to be no webpage). Either way, any good promoter knows his name attached to anything serves as a huge curiosity generator if nothing else and so it was promoted as such. You never saw Happy Death Men advertised without  "featuring John Koviak" following it.  I know little else about the project or who else is in it except for the observation that the main vocalist for Happy Death Men - at least on this evening - is also in the band Frank the Baptist. For his part - John played guitar and sang back up. When all was said and done; it was a bit underwhelming. They had some technical difficulties with backing tracks (I'll refrain from ranting about how much I hate that kind of thing at a "live" show) and neither the singer nor John was inspired enough to engage the crowd in any capacity. I don't recall that he even uttered a word to the crowd.  The music was not bad but not memorable either. I remember thinking that yes, John is indeed a competent guitar player but nothing stood out or grabbed me about what they were creating on stage.

Next up was the instigators of this whole event - Frank the Baptist - who had initially contacted the venue about this show and got the ball rolling finding the San Diego scene less than favorable these days. Frank makes frequent visits to LA and is very much welcomed as one of locals here so its not ironic that the biggest crowd thus far to fill the stage area was for this band. I've been a fan of their music for a while but this was the first time I had a chance to see them live.  Frank, always in his trademark top hat, has a velvety voice that delivers their smooth but very catchy melodies like a classic crooner. I'm not sure if there was a more suave gentlemen in the house that night. Their guitar player was the most dynamic character on stage thus far being more rock n roll than morose goth in nature. He bounced, posed and ripped the guitar lines out like a seasoned professional obviously having fun with what he was doing. They were confident and that always translates well. The music was tight and flawless and the majority of the crowd seemed to know the songs so that added to the energy of their show. By far one of their most popular songs judging from the applause was "Silver Is Her Color" which Frank dedicated to Shane Talada even though he was not in attendance that evening.

Before the headlining band went on stage, Dave Skott took the microphone to give out some goodies to the attendees and to thank everyone that had made the effort to come out.  Natasha from Meltdown Magazine will be glad to know that people clamored for the few copies of Issue #10 that I brought for this event because it featured an article on the Deathrock Scene. Infact, Daniel and members of Cinema Strange were in attendance that night and he was quite good-naturedly embarrassed to see his face gracing the cover.

And finally in anticipation of the main act of the evening, the crowd gathered in and crushed the front of the stage. I don't think a soul was left in the bar. The man, the myth, the monster, the band ... yes indeed, Frankenstein was in the house. Composed of legends of the underground music scene, Frankenstein stormed the stage and nailed everyone to the wall like some kind of zombiefied tour de force. As I looked out at the crowd they were either in full tilt fan mode or were completely awe-struck from the first note. This band was the perfect example of confidence. This is what separates the men from boys at live shows. This band is good and they knew it. They played without hesitation and every member - *every* member - played their part with 200% effort. There was no timid hiding behind mic stands, no blank stares off into space - every being on that stage churned and lurched and  lunged. Dave Grave - even minus the green makedup - *became* Frankenstein. He stumbled, flailed about on clumsy newborn limbs, cocked his head this way and that and let out a belly full of rumble. He threw bones at people, banged a few on the ground and then he got sexy. Never thought of Frankenstein as sexy? Well, you haven't seen Dave Grave on stage. With pelvic moves that even Elvis would envy, pushed by the blues-inspired guitar playing of Rev. Whitey Peckawood, Mr. Frankenstein became a big green love machine groaning and moaning to the delight of everyone. With songs like "Lovecraft," "Thunder Jug" and "Devil in a Bottle" there was not one foot in the house that was not tapping, not one booty that wasn't shaking, not one hand not itching for a drink (and I don't even drink!). You get the picture. Frankenstein does not disappoint and are quite worth any amount of money and any drive you have to take to see them play live. For new bands trying to crack the secret of stage presense: watch the masters and learn.

I'll leave you with the words of Mr. Johnny Bubonic  who described Frankenstein better than I ever could have:

This is a pure bone-crunching juggernaut of raw energy. A collection of blistering bluesy bad-boy horrorpunk dirges that ferociously hammers it's fists against the laboratory walls. A green leviathan of fulsome pile-driving sexuality demanding release.

Release the Bats
http://hometown.aol.com/batsdontcry
Info line: 949-263-4180

Frankenstein
http://www.meathouse.com/frankenstein/

Frank the Baptist
http://www.frankthebaptist.com/

Happy Death Men (no webpage ?)

John Koviak webpage
http://www.angelfire.com/la/koviak/

Crush Violets
http://www.crushviolets.com/
http://www.mp3.com/crushviolets

Fallen 019
http://www.fallen019.com/

The Troubadour
http://www.troubadour.com/

Black Celebration all-dayer:
Apoptygma Berzerk
Sheep On Drugs
Sulpher
Greenhaus
Angels & Agony
Chaos Engine
Needleye
Neurophoria
Astoria, London
October 27 2002
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis
 

For the fourth year running, Flag Promotions presents Black Celebration, 'London's Premiere Industrial/EBM/Electro Festival', to quote the flyer. That's 'Premiere' as in 'number one in a field of one', since no other promoter is currently putting on this kind of event in London - but I think we can allow Flag a bit of shameless hype, because this year's event is the biggest Black Celebration yet. It's moved up into the 1500-capacity Astoria, one of London's principal theatre-style rock venues. This, I suspect, is largely due to the pulling power of the headliners, Apoptygma Berzerk, who seem to have an ever-expanding fanbase these days. If they weren't on this bill, frankly the event would look dangerously like yet another of Flag's 'round up the usual suspects' gigs - and probably wouldn't pull in anything like enough people to fill the Astoria. But what the hell. A crowd is a crowd, a result is a result. Let's go to the show.

Neurophoria open the proceedings at the ghastly hour of 3.45pm. At this early stage there's hardly anyone inside the venue, so the band have the thankless task of trying to entertain a wide expanse of empty floor. Still, they throw themselves into their music enthusiastically enough. It's bouncy, accessible, electro-industrial, fronted by a be-goggled and be-dreaded cyber-chap in trousers so wide it looks like he's growing out of the stage like a tree. The other musicians are spread out around the extreme fringes of the stage - an odd move, this, since it reduces the visual impact of the band to the point where the singer has to carry the whole show by himself on a vast and empty sweep of stage. Bunching everybody all together down the front would've given the set more focus, and concentrated the band's energy; but still, Neurophoria made the best of a bad slot, and the early crowd, although sparse, seemed to like them well enough.

More people arrive in the moshpit zone for Needleye - this band obviously has a bit of a following. It's still early, but they're pulling in the fans. Quite what Needleye are doing at this 'industrial/EBM/electro' event is a bit of a mystery, for they're the very model of a modern metal band - all grinding guitars, snarled vocals, and freestyle headbanging. Now, normally I'd say that this kind of stuff is *so* not my type of music, but there's something about Needleye that grabs my attention and stops me wandering off to the bar. Maybe it's their gung-ho approach - they're here to ROCK and by jeepers they'll do just that. Maybe it's their larger-than-life cartoonish stage presence - every member of the band has their own look, their own style, their own persona. I particularly enjoyed the bald guitarist, who's perfected a headbanging technique in which his head bounces crazily up and down like a nodding dog in the rear window of a car. Meanwhile, the singer prowls the stage, occasionally pausing and raising his eyes to the heavens, like an Old Testament prophet seeking enlightenment in the lighting rig. It all adds up to quite a spectacle, and although I confess I'm highly unlikely to rush out and buy Needleye albums to play at home, as a live act they definitely hit the spot.

The Chaos Engine are now one of the UK scene's more established bands. They've been around since '96, toured the UK gig circuit umpteen times, supported everyone from Project Pitchfork to Christian Death, released three albums, and headlined a stage at the Eurorock Festival in Belgium and at C8 in Montreal. So what, then, are they doing so far down *this* bill? They certainly have the pulling-power to handle a higher place - they're the first band today to get a real crowd down the front. I strongly suspect the reason for their lowly billing is the simple fact that the band are far too willing to say 'Yes!' to any deal they're offered, without stopping to consider whether it's a *good* deal. If I were the Chaos Engine's booking agent, I'd have given Flag Promotions a very dusty answer if they'd offered me a crap third-up-from-the-bottom slot like this. I'd have politely but firmly (well, maybe not toooo politely...) held out for a higher slot - or no show! You know what they say: nice guys finish last - or, at least, further down the bill than they deserve. Perhaps it's time for the Chaos Engine to stop being so nice when promoters come along with less-than-impressive offers.  But regardless of their position on the bill, the 'Engine still deliver when it comes to good old fashioned noise and mayhem. They crash-land on stage like a hand grenade, a manic explosion of energy, a firework going off in a confined space. There's new stuff in the set, but for me the highlight is the older song 'Employee Of The Year' in which Lee, the band's frontman, whips himself into a dangerous frenzy, hollering 'IT'S JUST A FUCKING JOB!!!' with such intensity I fully expect to see his vocal chords burst out of the side of his neck. There's even a surreal interlude in which Mark Eris, one of the Wasp Factory label crew, emerges on stage  in the guise of a gangsta rapper, and assures us that 'Lee Chaos is my bitch!' and that he's 'Doin' it for the kids!' These men are, frankly, not normal. But we wouldn't have it any other way.

Angels and Agony inhabit that grey area between full-on EBM and the slightly more nebulous territory of electro-goth. They're a three-piece -  guitar, keyboard, vocals, and (presumably) some sort of backing track. They come from the Netherlands, and are, apparently, quite big on the Continental circuit. They certainly score some 'big band' points here - they're the only band on the bill to provide their own backdrop. Hey, if you've got a logo - flaunt it! Musically, it's fast and full-on: the beat never gives up, and energetic dancing breaks out down the front as the crowd get into it. The down side is that the band don't have a huge amount of character or individuality - three anonymous-looking blokes in T-shirts on stage doesn't make for a fascinating visual experience, and much of their material sounds samey and characterless to my ears. Coming directly after the Chaos Engine - who are *all* character and individuality - I'm afraid I found Angels And Agony just a bit bland.

Angels And Agony may come across as a little bland, but they're a spicy feast compared to Greenhaus, who have all the stage presence of a cardboard box. The presence of Greenhaus so far up the bill can be neatly explained by pointing out that one of the people in the band is Frank, the man behind Flag Promotions. Frank has been quite shamelessly booking his own band at his own gigs for a couple of years now, and, unlike Chaos Engine, Greenhaus mysteriously never seem to have any problems in grabbing plumb slots close to the top of the bill. I can't help wondering if Greenhaus would've made it this far on their own merits, because there's nothing much to look at - just three blokes standing behind black boxes, plus a guitarist off to the side. Meanwhile, the music, while not without a certain charm if punchy techno instrumentals are your thing, isn't amazingly outstanding when you compare it with the output of real techno innovators like Fluke or Dave Clarke. On this bill, Greenhaus provide a useful opportunity to grab a beer and visit the toilet - there's no particular reason to hang around and watch the stage, after all - and while the music is decent enough as a mildly groovy background sound, it never really cuts loose and lets rip.

Sulpher provide a sudden change of style, sound, and pace. They're a full-on guitar band, almost as incongrous at this event as Needleye. If you want comparisons, imagine the heavy guitars and beats of Nine Inch Nails mashed up with the angst-ridden rock of Nirvana. That, basically, is Sulpher's schtick. It may all be rather contrived these days - how many rock bands have we seen over the years who give it that fuelled-by-alienation thing? - but there's something about this kind of stuff which hits home with a certain sector of the rock audience. And you know what? I just bet Sulpher know that, and have deliberately tailored their music to suit. It works, too.The crowd goes wild, and there's a crush of people at the front, all reaching out to the band as if they're some sort of rock 'n' roll saviours. I stand back, a little detatched from it all, but impressed by the band's professionalism. Maybe it's because I'm 38 years old and I've seen this done so often I can more or less predict the moves in advance, or maybe I'm just a cynical old bugger these days, but Sulpher's music doesn't touch my soul - it just makes me think, hmmm. Clever band. They've really got this stuff nailed down! As a dramatic finale, at the end of the last song, the frontman hurls his guitar up and across the stage in a high arc...it twists and tumbles under the lights, before falling straight into the arms of a roadie, who just happens to be correctly positioned to catch it. Now, was that spontaneous, or was it rehearsed? Either way, it's a grand and extravagant stunt with which to finish the set - but I'm willing to bet it was all planned. Sulpher strike me as the kind of band who have *all* their moves mapped out. I can't say I'll ever be a massive fan, but...clever band!

Now we're into the upper strata of the bill, and it's time for Sheep On Drugs. Not, however, Sheep On Drugs as we've known and loved them in the past. Duncan, the band's original frontman, takes a back seat these days (although we're told he's still involved in some vague behind-the-scenes capacity). This means that Sheep On Drugs, 2002-style, is basically Lee Fraser on laptop and electronics, plus a motley assortment of friends and aquaintances whom Lee has recruited to make up the numbers. The band's set-up tonight features Lee, centre-stage, hunched over a table full of electro gear. Off to one side there's a guitarist lurking in the shadows, and a girl, all red hair and red Marlboros, standing behind a miniscule keyboard. Whether these two are on stage for any genuinely musical reason, or whether they're just mime-artists who've been brought in to fill up some space, is hard to tell. More interesting, perhaps, is the band's new vocalist - it's none other than madcap techno poet Tarantella Serpentine, who wanders around the other side of the stage, hollering and declaiming song titles and snatches of lyric as remixed versions of the old hits hammer out of the PA. Well, that's the set-up, but is this new version of Sheep On Drugs any good? Hmmm. Depends. I suppose, for people who never saw the original band, it all seems suitably groovy. But for me, speaking as an old-skool fan of the original band, the new version comes across as messy, unfocused, and ultimately rather lame. The genuinely mesmerising presence of Duncan is much missed - although, just to tantalise us, he comes out briefly to take photos of the crowd. While Tarantella is good in his own right, he doesn't really engage with the audience, or provide a focal point for the band - in short, he simply wanders around too much, and I don't think he actually sings a complete song all night. The keyboard-girl and the guitarist are kept so far back they might just as well not be on stage, and Lee, with his table-o-gear, just doesn't do enough to justify his centre-stage position. Sheep On Drugs used to be genuinely fascinating performers - they'd always put on a *show*. Now, however, the new version of the band comes across like a bunch of mates having a slightly drunken jam session - it's all quite entertaining in an undemanding kind of way, but it doesn't really *go* anywhere, and at times it looks like the band are having more fun than the audience. To be blunt, if Lee wants to make progress with this new incarnation of Sheep On Drugs, he'd better tighten up and sharpen up, because I'm very much afraid that This Won't Do.

And finally....our headliners. Apoptygma Berzerk have become genuine stars on the Continental circuit over the last few years. In their home country of Norway, they chart higher than Eminem. Even in the UK, where the music media is totally in the pockets of major labels and mainstream industry players, and the underground scene is too small and marginalised to have much impact, they've managed to achieve no-shit 'big band' status. By and large, they've done this on the back of two club hits: 'Non-stop Violence' and 'Love Never Dies' have been (and still are) instant floor fillers in UK clubs, to an extent that our own bands must envy. Even the Dream Disciples, with their towering club anthem 'Room 57', couldn't manage to knock Apoptygma Berzerk off their pedestal as Top Club Band. However, as a live act, Apop are less familiar. This isn't their first visit to the UK, but they're hardly regulars on our gig circuit, and I suspect that this unfamiliarity is half the reason the Astoria is packed tonight. Everyone wants to see this mysterious band who've taken the clubs by storm. So, what are they like? Oddly enough, very much like a conventional rock band. The line-up features a drummer, guitarist, keyboard player and vocalist. The keyboard player is clearly miming - sometimes he moves away from his keyboard altogether, while the music still churns around him. Whenever he spots a photographer nearby, he gurns and poses and lifts his keyboard half-off its stand for comic effect. He's an entertainment all by himself, but he's clearly only there for decoration. The guitarist throws shapes and makes rock 'n' roll grimaces as he plays, in approved guitar-hero style. The drummer tub-thumps. And Stephan Groth, the vocalist and main man, hams it up at the front like a good 'un, while the fans crushed against the stage reach out to touch him. This is genuine pop star fan-worship in action. Like so many lead vocalists these days, Groth cannot actually sing - that's obvious enough from Apop's albums, where he drones his way through the lyrics in a monotone. However, on the recordings, his voice nestles amid lavish production that makes the best of what he's got. Live, however, there's no such safety net, and to be brutal about it, he sounds godawful on most of the material. This is a real let-down for me, although the fans at the front clearly don't care. Their worship of the band is so total that I suspect Groth could come out and fart at them for an hour and they'd probably still be entranced. But I'm not a paid-up member of the fan club, and frankly I'm not impressed. I expected something better than this - something more than a conventional rock band with a singer who can't sing. The club hits, I'm sure, will keep on coming. I may even dance to 'em myself, after suitable lubrication. But as a live band, it has to be said that Apoptygma Berzerk just don't cut it.

So, that was Black Celebration. The biggest so far, but not the best. Sure, Flag Promotions scored a coup by booking a big-name headliner, and grabbing the new version of Sheep On Drugs before anyone else. But in all honesty I'd rather see newer bands who really have something to offer, rather than endure some lacklustre performances by alleged megastar acts, who, when you analyse what they *really* do, aren't actually that mega. There's probably some sort of frightfully erudite conclusion to be drawn here, involving the concepts of quantity and quality, emperor's new clothes, all that kind of thing. But I'll leave you to fill that one in for yourself!

See all the photos from this concert here

Apoptygma Berzerk:  http://www.apoptygmaberzerk.de

Sheep On Drugs:  http://www.sheep-on-drugs.com

Sulpher:  http://www.sulpher.co.uk

Greenhaus:  http://www.greenhaus.co.uk

Angels And Agony:  http://www.globalxs.nl/home/m/moonland

Chaos Engine:  http://www.chaosengine.com

Needleye:  http://www.needleye.net

Neurophoria:  [No website]

Flag Promotions:  http://www.flagpromotions.com

The Astoria:  http://www.meanfiddler.com/version1/londonastoria/index.asp

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to
 

Concert Review of The Cruxshadows
October 12th
Albion-Batcave, New York
~review by Kim Mercil

This was not just another typical Saturday night at Albion-Batcave, because scheduled to perform for us was The Cruxshadow. Basically if they were not on the bill we most likely would not have even attempted to venture out of our domains due to the heavy down pours of non stop rain for the last 48hours and which continued on through
out the night.

The biggest question on everyone's mind was "who is this opening band Package?" No one has ever heard of them before despite the fact they are a Brooklyn based band. Before they went on the thoughts of some audience members around me was either they are going to be a horrible band, while others like myself said let me give them the benefit of the doubt and I will make up my mind after the third song. Well let me just say by the third track, I was hoping it was the last one. This three piece outfit has a lot of potential but I think trying to squeeze in every genera of music into one song can ruin any ones head trip. I do give them credit for having the guts to play in front of an almost packed house as people slowly kept filing in awaiting The Cruxshadows to take stage. I was amazed at how gracious the NY spectators were.

Having seen The Cruxshadws perform once before I kind of knew what to expect. Never the less they are and will remain a great band to see live. This is highly due to the fact that Rogue has a great stage presence. His constant interaction with the crowd makes them feel like they are playing a part in the show as well. One would think that a band that has been on tour since May should seem exhausted, not with The Cruxshadows. They performed all the new material from there recent release Wishfire and delivered it with an abundance of energy, power and emotion. They even came back for three encores, the first being "Marilyn, My Bitterness" during which Rogue brought up members of the audience to dance with him on stage. The second encore was "Monsters" just in time for Halloween and lastly they ended with "Heaven's Gaze". Rogue did this despite the fact he was a bit under the weather that evening. What a trooper!!

http://www.cruxshadows.com
http://www.ferret.com (American label)
http://www.darkcelldigititalmusic.net (UK distributors)

Season's End
Descendants of Cain
Killing Miranda
Theatres des vampires
Camden Underworld, London
Saturday September 14th
~review and photos by Jezebel

There is good news and bad news in this review. The good news is that this "gothic metal special" show was well attended and can reinforce the notion that gothic music whether it be the heavier or lighter side of it is not dead and that the techno/EBM music has not taken over. There is still life in the old girl.

The bad news? Well, we will get to that.

I arrived on time for the 6pm door opening, as Season's End was scheduled for 6:30. But, as seems to be inherent in any Flag Promotion gig, sound check was running behind and the doors were to be delayed. They were not only delayed, but minutes after we were let into the venue (about 7pm), Descendants of Cain were brought on stage to do their sound check, which led into their set, which was cut to only 3 songs. Um? Hello? I looked at my ticket stub - no, Season's End was to open for Descendants of Cain. What the heck was going on?

Descendants of Cain did take this abbreviated moment and prove once again that they are not just Nephilim-inspired copycats, but a band that is slowly and deliberately coming into their own with a unique hard edged ethereal sound. DoC is one of those bands that started out small (being what I used to call the "lounge act" of the club Tenebrae) and have steadily proved to many, including naysayers, that they are an excellent, professional band worthy of recognition and advancement. I believe they threw in a curveball with one new song and if that being any indication of their upcoming release Briah, we are all going to be blown away by their development, evolution and musical ability. I was very very sadly disappointed that they were whisked off the stage after three most amazing songs.

ESPECIALLY once Season's End came on stage. Firstly - they did get to play a full set. To me, in terms of professionalism, that was a poor choice in the promoter's part. (Season's End didn't get a sound check from what I understand so maybe this was to make-up for the fact, who knows?) Secondly, I agree with the review by my fellow staff writer, Uncle Nemesis, this is not a gothic metal band. They are a metal band. A decent metal band true, but something I must add to my esteemed colleague's review, this is a band in need of a bit more direction. The voice of their lead singer, Becki, is absolutely amazing, but would be more so if she dropped it about a half an octave to get more strength behind it. With her musings and lovely soprano, but with the death metal voice of David, lead guitarist and backing vocals, the mix is a bit oil and vinegar for me and doesn't truly blend. This is a good band and I was lucky enough to get one of their CDs (admittedly an older release) from the band and I am looking forward to hearing it and giving a review (hopefully a good one).

But throughout the two bands, the crowds were good, strong and definitely filled with fans of the two bands. (the DoC fans being the ones walking around a bit disappointed), perhaps with both bands gaining a few new fans.

Killing Miranda were up next and I will say that this is where the energy of the night really took off. Say what you like about lead singer Rikki, but in his element and among fans (which there seemed to be dozens upon dozens), he is one amazing front man, energizing and challenging a crowd to meet or exceed his energy. Throughout their entire set from their new stuff to their old (an entire crowd singing, "I Was a Teenage Vampire" is something that everyone should hear and see once in their lives) theirs was a non-stop energy around and throughout the venue. The band as a whole is one that you can almost guarantee a tight and professionally played set, something which I believe more bands need to take notice of.

And oh the bad news. That the show didn't end right there and then….no, we still had the headliners.

Yeah - the headliner. I knew nothing of the band, Theatre de Vampires, so I didn't know what to expect. I made the Anne Rice connection so I figured we would get some kind of vampire inspired metal music. Well, it was vampire inspired and metal, but music is not what I would call it. A loud obnoxious over the top freak show with some choruses, notes and chords thrown in is more like it. What WAS that? Some half naked woman dressed atrociously basically pole dancing with the mic stand. Some garishly dressed men with the prerequisite (I guess if you are trying to look like vampires) white face and badly drawn eyeliner on their faces. It wasn't music, it wasn't performance art. It was bad schlock, just evil, bad schlock. I agree Uncle Nemesis, if I never ever hear or see this "band" again - it will be way too soon.

see all the photos here

Theatres des Vampires:  http://www.theatres-des-vampires.com
Killing Miranda: http://www.killingmiranda.com
Descendants of Cain: http://www.descendantsofcain.co.uk
Season's End:  http://seasonsend.batcave.net
Flag Promotions:  http://www.flagpromotions.com
The Underworld: http://www.foundationgroup.co.uk/clubs/underworld/underworld.htm

Diary Of Dreams
The Faces Of Sarah
Diorama
The Venus Fly Trap
Underworld, London
Saturday November 23 2002
~review and phtos by Uncle Nemesis

Tonight, Diary Of Dreams hit London as part their latest Euro-tour. And this really *is* a tour, taking in Moscow, Madrid, Berlin, Rome, Athens, and just about every European city you've ever heard of - and quite a few you haven't. (Hello Zapfendorf!) All you stay-at-home UK bands, who think you're working hard if you play Birmingham and Brighton in the same month - look at the Diary Of Dreams tour schedule and weep!

This gig, like most goth/EBM/related stuff in London these days, is brought to us by Flag Promotions, and in typical Flag style the bill has been loaded with three support bands, rather than the more traditional two, presumably in a bid to bump up the Value For Money factor. That's a fine thought in itself, but it does mean that in order to fit everything in before the 10.30pm curfew, the gig has to start at the absurdly early time of 6.30. Which, in turn, effectively means that the opening band has to play to an empty floor, since very few people make it to the gig at what is, after all, more or less tea time.

Tonight's tea time entertainment comes from The Venus Fly Trap, who are fast becoming one of Flag's 'usual suspects' outfits - it seems like Flag wheel 'em on to fill the opening slot whenever they're one act short of a gig. While I don't begrudge VFT these opportunities, I have to confess that I'm finding it difficult to think of new things to say about the band. On this occasion, although I dutifully went to the front and paid attention, all I can do is more or less recycle the essential elements of my previous VFT reviews. 80s vintage alternative band...now reduced to a two-piece...fairly uptempo but not especially characterful alternorock songs...not much to look at...appear a little lost on the not-particularly-large Underword stage...set ends with a cover of Suicide's 'Rocket USA', which seems to go on for ever...polite applause from the few people who are watching...thanks and goodnight. And that's The Venus Fly Trap. Until the next time, then - and I don't doubt that if Flag have anything to do with it, the band will be back for more of the same before too long. I shall try to contain my excitement.

Now, a little mystery. The flyers, tickets, posters, and web-info for this gig assure us that the next band is supposed to be Diorama. So why do The Faces Of Sarah troop on stage at this point? It seems the running order has been re-arranged at the last minute, and that's bad news for some FoS fans, who, believing that their favourite band is playing in the later slot, arrive too late to catch the set. I can only assume that this change has come about because Adrian Hates, the main man of Diary Of Dreams, leant on Flag to bump Diorama up the bill. Diorama just happen to be on his record label, Accession: working out the behind-the-scenes shennanigans isn't difficult. I can't diss Adrian Hates for wanting to grab the best deal for his bands, but this sort of thing should really be sorted out at the gig-contract negotiation stage - messing everyone around on the night like this just isn't on. Uncle Nemesis would never have allowed it!

Still, The Faces Of Sarah come out and brew up a big rock storm regardless. The Underworld stage, although not massive, is big enough to allow the various members of the band to spread out a bit and interact with each other, and that's good to see after the minimalist presence of The Venus Fly Trap.  It's also good to see a bit of human-to-human spark happening on stage between a bunch of people who are clearly doing it for the *music*. The out-front sound is clear and powerful, and the Faces crank it up and let fly. Encouragingly, given the earlier than advertised stage time, a large crowd gathers to see the band do their stuff. In particular, there's a contingent of German, Italian and Belgian people here tonight - presumably part of the Diary Of Dreams Euro-fanbase - who cluster to the front and seem impressed. That's a good sign. I suspect The Faces Of Sarah would win quite a large following if they got out there on the Continental circuit. Certainly, there's got to be more future for the band in that area than they'll ever get by playing Flag Promotions support slots, with their mysteriously shifting running-orders...

So, we come to Diorama, unexpectedly promoted into the second-top spot. The band turns out to comprise three squeaky-clean synthpop boys who look like they've just stepped out of a 1980s edition of Smash Hits magazine. They play - typically enough - a vaguely Depeche Mode-ish brand of bouncy pop tunes. That's Depeche Mode in their early incarnation as a nice little pop group, rather than the later-style 'rock god' version. If 'Speak And Spell' is one of your all-time favourite albums, then I suppose Diorama will be right up your street (or at least, up your respectable suburban avenue) - but personally I like my music to have a bit more grit and guts to it. Diorama's music is entirely free of such contamination. It's as light and fluffy as a cream doughnut. There's a bunch of synthpop kids down the front who seem to be eating it up with great pleasure, but me, I'm off to the bar.

Superstar time. This might be a somewhat smaller gig than Diary Of Dreams are accustomed to play on the continental circuit, where they enjoy genuine 'big band' status - and where, in general, goth 'n' related stuff has much more clout. Nevertheless, they look impressed with the size and enthusiasm of the crowd, and the crowd is certainly impressed by Diary Of Dreams. The line-up has changed since we saw DoD last: the band, in any case, basically comprises Adrian Hates plus whoever he chooses to work with from time to time. The 'whoever' at this gig includes a drummer hiding in the shadows at the back, a keyboard player in a diaphanous T-shirt, and that vital accessory for the modern goth band: a punk rock guitarist. (Bella Morte, The Narcissus Pool, and now Diary Of Dreams - they've all got one!) Curiously enough, the punk rock guitarist is barely audible throughout the gig, although he thrashes away like a good 'un. The soundmix is heavily dominated by electronics - it seems Diary Of Dreams are going somewhat synthpop these days. Adrian Hates himself dominates the stage, striding to and fro and making grand gestures to illustrate the lyrics. Essentially, the set falls into two halves: the new stuff (from the recent album 'Panik Manifesto') is rattled off in the first half, and then the old faves are wheeled out in the second half. It's an effective performance by a band who know just how to put on a good show, and the crowd cheers every song to the rafters - or at least, to the lighting rig. Looks like this gig will be chalked up as a good result in the tour diary.

The curfew is looms up, and threatens to cut the show off short, but the band are unexpectedly allowed back for one last encore. They announce 'Exile' - but then, instead of launching into the song, they just stand there, looking rather lost. The reason for this odd hiatus soon becomes apparent - the band can't start the song until their sound engineer, behind the desk on the opposite side of the venue, starts up the backing track! Eventually, he rolls the tape, or starts the disc spinning, whatever, and  the opening sounds of 'Exile' boom through the PA. The band perk up and start playing along. I'm left feeling rather let down. I have no particular objection to the use of backing tracks on stage, if that's the only practical way to reproduce a complex studio sound - but when the live action is totally subordinate to the pre-recorded stuff, to the point where the band just have to stand there like a collection of lemons until someone finds the 'play' button - that, I'm afraid, is the point at which a live show slides into karaoke night hell. The sight of Diary Of Dreams standing helplessly on stage, waiting for the backing track to start playing their song for them, will live with me for some time to come. I'm disappointed. I thought they were cooler than that.

see all the photos from this concert here

Diary Of Dreams:  http://www.diaryofdreams.de

The Faces Of Sarah:  http://www.thefacesofsarah.co.uk

Diorama:  http://www.diorama-music.com

The Venus Fly Trap:  http://www.spiralarchive.com/venus_nav/venus_home.htm

Accession Records, label of Diary Of Dreams and Diorama:  http://www.accession-records.de

Flag Promotions, promoters of the gig: http://www.flagpromotions.com

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to

Passion Play
Belisha
Descendants Of Cain
Underworld, London
Saturday August 17 2002
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis
(photo of Dave and John b Jezebel)

Here in London, we've become used to the endless stream of gigs thrown at us by the omnipresent Flag Promotions. Over the last three years or so, Flag has become, more or less by default, London's principal purveyor of the goth 'n' related live music experience. Which is all very fine in itself, but sometimes it does seem like Flag simply books slightly different permutations of the same 20 bands at every gig. Many Flag bills have a distinct touch of 'round up the usual suspects' about them, and in spite of the fact that I personally like many of the bands which have become Flag-regulars, I sometimes wish other promoters would jump in and give a chance to the many bands who never seem to show up on Flag's radar.

That, more or less, is what's happened tonight. This gig is the brainchild of Dave Exile, one of London's best-known club DJs. Although Dave is not a live music promoter, he saw an opportunity to showcase three of the best contemporary guitar-based bands of the moment - and this gig is the result. It's a brave move, because Passion Play have never played a full-scale London headliner, Belisha are entirely an unknown quantity as a live band, and the Descendants Of Cain, although well-known from their appearances at the Tenebrae club, aren't exactly regulars on the gig-circuit. And yet, there's something about the bill which just feels right - it's a line-up which hangs together well. The bands have very different styles, but those styles compliment each other, rather than collide. And, quite aside from that, there's a feeling around the scene at large that it's simply the right time for a gig like this to happen. It's time to round up the *unusual* suspects!

An encouragingly large crowd gathers at the front as the Descendants Of Cain arrive on stage. The band's regular slot at Tenebrae has obviously helped them build up a fan-base, and that fan-base is out in force tonight. There's an obvious difference between this gig and the band's club-appearances, however: tonight they have the opportunity to put on a show. Lights, smoke - a *stage*, even - these are facilities entirely lacking at Tenebrae, which is primarily a DJ-driven club with no live music gear. Catching a Descendants Of Cain set at Tenebrae always seems a bit like watching a band in rehearsal - but tonight we get the real thing. It's atmospheric and powerful; the songs are long, sinewy things, unfurling and unwinding like anacondas which have scented prey. I must admit this is the first time I've really understood what the Descendants Of Cain are all about: previously, I'd had them mentally filed away in that slot reserved for 'bands who are a bit like the Nephilim', but that does them no justice at all. While I'm sure they'd appeal to anyone who likes 'Last Exit For The Lost' they're in no way trying to walk in Carl McCoy's footprints. There's a definite Descendants Of Cain sound here, the sweeping background atmospherics of the keyboards, the two guitars talking to each other over the top. It all manages to be raw and gutsy while at the same time building up layers of atmosphere. File under 'impressive'.

Belisha are the jokers in tonight's pack in that they're not actually a goth band. Or, if they are, it's by default rather than by design. They're essentially a bunch of alternorockers who discovered (I suspect to their surprise) that their music and general style fitted very neatly with the guitar-goth aesthetic. Their music has picked up a fair amount of play in the clubs, and that's how they've built up their name in goth-circles. Tonight is the first time the band and their new audience have actually set eyes on each other. My own first impression is that Belisha seem so *young* - is this a band, or is it a school project? My second impression is that someone's just let off a bomb on the Underworld stage. The band explodes in a mad frenzy of leaping and flailing - and half the audience steps back wearing 'What the fuck is THIS?' expressions. This kind of unrestrained energy-burst isn't often seen at goth gigs. But within the space of a song everyone's shifted up a gear and the crowd starts getting into it. The band push out so much intensity I'm convinced they'll collapse before the end of the set...but no, they just keep on going. They're like a dragster that doesn't stop at the end of the quarter-mile. They just keep the power full-on and roar straight at you. 'The Hounded' seems to be the song everyone knows, and in any case it's got one of those 'hear it once, in yer brain for ever' choruses, but pretty much everything in the set is immediate and accessible, and gets a good response from the crowd. By the time the Belisha-dragster finally unfurls its parachute and hauls itself to a stop, the audience is convinced. Belisha have arrived on the goth scene, and the goth scene doesn't know what's hit it.

Passion Play can't help but look like elder statesmen by comparison with Belisha. But then, they're the 'senior' band here tonight in that they've been steadily climbing up the goth-ladder for a few years - going around the circuit as a support band, then grabbing some headline slots, releasing two very fine albums along the way, and generally working hard at becoming *established*. It's about time they had a high-profile headline show in London - they've *worked* to reach this position. Having said all that, the present line-up of Passion Play is essentially a new band. Singer, guitarist and main man Justin is now joined by John, ex-Die Laughing on guitar, Mattias of Avaritia on bass - and a drummer, who on closer inspection turns out to be Justin's twin brother! This revised 'rock' version of Passion Play packs quite a punch. The music is solid, dense - a 'big' sound. The crowd sings along to their favourite songs - although there's new stuff in the set too -and good-naturedly heckles the band between numbers. It's almost like a homecoming gig - although Passion Play are not a London band, the London crowd has seen the band work its way up over many shows, and there's a feeling tonight that this is the gig the band have deserved for a long time. The atmosphere is great, and the band seem to be having as good a time as the audience. There's a minor glitch mid-set when Justin breaks a guitar string: while he's offstage changing it, the rest of the band play around with a little jazz riff, to the amusement of the crowd. Unfortunately the lost time this causes means there's no time for an encore. The crowd cheers and stamps to no avail: the Underworld curfew is carved in stone. Well, what the hell. They say you should always leave 'em wanting more, and tonight Passion Play did just that.

see ALL the photos from this show here

Passion Play: http://www.passionplay.co.uk

Belisha:  http://www.belisha.com

Descendants Of Cain:  http://www.descendantsofcain.co.uk

Dave Exile's club sites: http://www.drischmi.dircon.co.uk

The Underworld:  http://www.foundationgroup.co.uk/clubs/underworld/underworld.htm

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to

Neuroticfish
Revolution By Night
Seize
The Garage, London
Saturday November 30 2002
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis

Something unusual has just happened on the London scene. There's an EBM-flavour gig tonight at the Garage, and it's not arranged by Flag Promotions. Flag's dominance of the London circuit is so total these days that any non-Flag gig is immediately an attention-grabber. Quite who PTF Promotions, the people behind this gig, might be isn't made clear (is it anyone we know?) - but nevertheless, it's their name on the flyer and their gig tonight. Bet that's got 'em puzzled over at Flag HQ - but *we* don't need to worry. We just need to go to the gig...

I've remarked before on the baffling reluctance of Seize to point themselves in the direction of the mainstream dance scene, which is the most likely area for the band to win a big audience. Their slick, professionally-executed commercial dance sound would be entirely at home on the airwaves of London's dance radio station, Kiss FM, and their live show would go down a treat in the appropriate clubs. The band's insistence on trying to carve out some sort of career in the goth 'n' related zone is, frankly, perverse - as well as being doomed to failure, because if *goth* bands can't build viable careers in the goth scene, how can a dance group possibly make it?

Still, here Seize are again, perhaps not quite so out of place given the EBM slant of tonight's gig, but still very obviously not part of the home team, as it were. Their music seems to have been given a pep-up - the light, poppy, sound they've given us at previous shows has now been sharpened and honed. It's a mash-up of hard house and trance styles, with an occasional nod to the techno-heads thrown in. Those ecstasy-rush synth-crescendos are a dead giveaway (as well as being curiously dated - I mean, mid-90s or what!) The band also seem to have tweaked their stage presence - there's a dancer gyrating away on some of the songs, and Sandrine, the singer, looks like she actually *wants* to be on stage now, whereas at previous performances she's seemed a little disconnected.

Sandrine is wearing what looks like a fur-trimmed PVC Santa Claus outfit, which is faintly surreal, but I suspect there's a solid commercial reason for this curious garb. The merchandise stall is piled high with catalogues for Sophia Mattheaki's 'Elegance With Attitude' clothing range, which just happens to include the gear Sandrine and her dancer are wearing on stage. (Fashion note: legmuffs, apparently, are what the cool kids are wearing this season. Personally, I think I'll pass.) I don't begrudge this blatant product placement, but I wonder how effective it's likely to be. Seize still seem to be stuck in the opening-band slot, and certainly tonight they're playing to a mere handful of people - let's face it, if you're going to recruit a band to act as an all-singing, all-dancing advertisment for a fashion brand, you want a band that's going to play in front of a big crowd, right? Not for the first time, I'm forced to the conclusion that there just isn't a lot of strategic thinking happening here - on the part of Seize *or* their fashion consultant!

Revolution By Night pull a significantly larger crowd to the front. The assembled multitude contains more than a few diehard Slimelighters - and that's no surprise, because RBN's vocalist, Steve, is better known as one of the Slimelight club's longest-standing DJs. His profile in the club scene has obviously pulled a few clubbers to the gig tonight. Revolution By Night have a bit of history behind them - they originally emerged in the mid-90s when they played a somewhat Nephilim-esque style of gothic rock. Steve himself still sports the classic goth hairstyle of long crimped hair, but over the years the band has mutated into the EBM-monster we see before us tonight. Or at least, we see Steve, centre-stage: the other two members of the band are less visible. The stage-right keyboard player is so far back he's out of my camera range, while the stage-left keyboard player hides behind his stacked gear, with only his top-knot visible. I don't know if this is a deliberate ploy to focus all attention on the vocals, or it's simply that nobody thought to check out the stage set-up from the audience's point of view, but it does mean that Steve carries the show more or less on his own. It's driving, dancable stuff, based around rhythms that are a little more complex than the standard doof-doof, with the vocals hollered out over the top in a surprisingly clear, unaffected style that must surprise anyone who recalls the old-skool RBN sound. The band's secret weapon is their self-deprecating, ironic humour. 'If this was a VNV Nation gig, this would be the bit where we ask you to put your hands in the air,' quips Steve. The audience laughs heartily - and then puts their hands in the air! Ah, a double-irony, you don't get that at every gig! Promo copies of the band's forthcoming 'Faithless' EP are given out to deserving fans (a bloke at the front wins one by dropping his trousers) and it all feels more like a party than a gig. It's good that RBN can generate this kind of atmosphere, but the acid test will come when the band start playing gigs away from their London friends and fans. Revolution By Night have got something good going here - but this is only the start.

By the time Neuroticfish are ready to kick off, the venue is rammed. It's obvious which of tonight's three bands is the top draw - many people seem to have come in late, just to see the 'Fish. The band is a fairly standard EBM three-piece: a singer and two keyboard players. What's non-standard about them is the singer's appearance - he looks more like a crusty punk than a denizen of the modern electronic underworld. However, they sound pretty much like you'd expect: think of VNV Nation, switch the singer's accent from Irish to German, and you're pretty much there. The dance floor goes crazy, the singer paces to and fro in a disturbingly manic manner, and it all wallops along in the approved full-on EBM style. Neuroticfish certainly aren't going to win any prizes for originality - it's all very, very, generic - but they know how to put on a show. The usual jolly-ups are trotted out - all the traditional 'Put your hands in the air!' stuff. Personally, I always find all this rather patronising and silly, but *everyone* seems to do it these days, especially in this scene. Frankly, if a band has to resort to exhortations such as these to whip the crowd into a frenzy, it doesn't say much for the music, does it? The music alone should be capable of generating all the necessary excitement. Still, Mr Neuroticfish runs through the standard repertoire, with a few variations of his own: 'Hello London!' is supplemented by 'Hello Manchester!' and 'Hello Birmingham!' and further hellos to various other British cities. Apparently there are a few people from each of these places at the gig, because sundry cheers greet each sally, but I'm standing off to the side thinking, 'Just shut up and get on with it, you great buffoon!' Climax of the set is 'Velocity', seemingly the band's big hit tune - certainly, that's the one people have been shouting for throughout the gig. It all ends with huge cheers. There's no doubt that Neuroticfish made a big impact on the crowd, but I'm left feeling a little short-changed. I wanted something more than an exercise in pressing all the usual EBM genre-buttons. I wanted ideas and creativity. I wanted to be taken by surprise. Most of all, I wanted something more than 'Hello London! Put your hands in the air!'

see all the photos from this concert here

Neuroticfish:  http://www.neuroticfish.com

Revolution By Night:  http://www.revolutionbynight.com

Seize:  http://www.sogoth.net/kichigai/seize.htm

PTF Promotions, promoters of the gig: http://www.geocities.com/ptf_london_uk

Sophia Mattheaki's clothing designs (you too can dress like Seize!): http://www.thestranger.co.uk/thestranger_uk/sophiam3.html

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to

The Faces Of Sarah
Malaise
DC Molina
Deadbeat Radicals
Club Noir, London
September 27, 2002
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis

It's rolled around again - the last Friday of the month, which means it's time for Club Noir. Flag Promotions brings us four assorted bands in the small attic room of the Garage. It's one of those gigs where the total number of band-members present threatens to outnumber the audience: going head to head with the Tenebrae club, which also runs on the last Friday of the month at Gossips in Soho, was not one of Flag's better ideas, and tonight's gig, which more or less occupies exactly the same musical ground as Tenebrae, is obviously struggling somewhat to claim its share of the London audience.

It must be a daunting prospect for the Deadbeat Radicals to be the first band on at this less-than-packed venue, especially when they've travelled all the way from Newcastle for the show. Nevertheless, they bounce around in a suitably energetic manner, and try their best to get the audience warmed up. They've got a punchy alternopop sound, in which choppy chunks of guitar fight it out with blat-and-wallop beats. Over this, a glammed-up female vocalist hollers out the lyrics. It all works rather well, in a poppy, punky, X-Ray Spex-meets-Kenickie way. I was, I confess, rather more impressed than I thought I was going to be, because the band's single, 'Little Yellow Mini', is a woefully lame exercise in novelty-pop-techno, all weedy, pitter-patter beats and a ghastly, nasal, fake-American vocal. I don't know quite what the band were thinking of when they recorded that song (hits and quick bucks, I suppose) - but I'm pleased and relieved to find that their live incarnation has a whole lot more substance. If only the Deadbeat Radicals could muster the courage to get their live sound (and their true musical character) down on CD, they'd be a force to be reckoned with. A good band, but they seem oddly reluctant to recognise their own strengths.

DC Molina have a name which sounds like a character in a hard-boiled detective novel. And maybe that's not such a bad angle to take on the band, because they certainly deal in decadent atmospheres and a gritty kind of glamour. There are three of them: a guitarist/vocalist, a guitarist/drummer, and a bassist, all decked out in dickies and Peckhams like they're on their way to some sort of glam-gangster wedding. The audience perks up and shows some interest as the band ambles on stage, because when the three members of DC Molina aren't doing their own thing, they're members of the current Sex Gang Children line-up. That in itself guarantees the band a bit of attention, but we aren't going to get a Sex Gang set tonight. The band play 100% their own material. It's a variety of low-slung swaggering blues, grinding and sleazy one minute, then rising to crescendos of mashed-up guitar and flurrying drumbeats. The vocalist wails and cajoles and threatens, one minute doing a doomed street-poet thing like Michael J. Sheehy of Dream City Film Club, next taking us on a mad ride through some crazed tales like the gawky, geeky brother of Nick Cave. A weirdly attractive bunch, with a strange, compelling stage presence and *just* the right amount of attitude.

Malaise take us into straight-down-the-line goth territory. They're a stern-faced crew of black-clad rockers, playing to a drum machine just like Uncle Andy taught us. The ingredients of their musical brew might be familiar, but they do good things with it. There's a lot of energy in their performance: everyone on stage is moving around, getting into it. The vocalist in particular throws himself into the show, and sometimes almost throws himself off the stage, looming out at the audience, who for the most part stand back, politely observing. It must be a real contrast for Malaise to play this kind of gig: a small audience in a small club, nobody getting *too* excited...only the previous week they played the GothAM festival in Amsterdam to a thousand people. I sometimes wonder how bands deal with this kind of rollercoaster - one night they're the kings of showbiz, a few nights later it's almost as if nobody really cares. I suppose the only way to approach it is for the band members themselves to lose themselves in their own music, and hope that maybe they'll take a few of the crowd along with them. That seems to be Malaise's method, and it seems to work. I'm sure this gig won't go down in Malaise history as an all-time classic, but they saw it through with impressively professional commitment.

The Faces Of Sarah have been gigging around the UK circuit for a while now, to the point where they've become familiar, er, faces to the live music crowd. Except that some of those faces are less familiar than others: the band now has a revised line-up in which three of the six members are new. The sound is different, too - in the past, the TFoS sound sat pretty much in the middle of the Sisters/Mission/Nephilim triangle, and while the band's take on this familiar gothic rock territory was always competently done, it wasn't like you could give 'em top marks for originality or anything. Now, that's changed: the band seem to be evolving a sound of their own, which owes less to ye olde gothick influences and a whole lot more to an assertive, contemporary, rock angle. They still have the Mish-like anthems, but they're played with far more intensity than Wayne and his ever-changing roster of anonymous session musicians can muster these days. The small stage forces the band to bunch together, but that's not a bad thing: it concentrates their energy and distills it all down. In particular, it means that the lead and backing vocalists stand right alongside each other. This creates a 'double fronted' effect which works rather well - especially on 'Misery Turns', a song which takes the form of a male/female dialogue - acted out before us on stage complete with disdainful facial expressions and all the appropriate body language! The soundmix isn't exactly crystal, and the audience thins out as last-train time approaches, so as with Malaise I doubt whether The Faces Of Sarah will regard this gig as one of their all-time greats. But nevertheless, they delivered.

See more outstanding photos from this gig here

The Faces Of Sarah: http://www.thefacesofsarah.co.uk

Malaise: http://www.malaise.net

DC Molina: http://www.felinerecords.co.uk/dcm/dcm.html

Deadbeat Radicals:  http://www.deadbeatradicals.com

Flag Promotions, promoters of Club Noir: http://www.flagpromotions.com

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to

Kiss The Frog
Leisur Hive
Forcis
Dublin Castle, London
Saturday October 19
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis

These days, goth often seems ring-fenced from the rest of the world. Goth bands play goth gigs to goth audiences; everything is kept cosily within the scene. That's fine for bands whose ambitions don't extend much beyond achieving big fish status in the small pond of goth, but there's an obvious limitation there for any band which wants to pull in a wider audience. The solution, obviously enough, is to play non-goth gigs - jump out of the small goth-pond altogether and splash down in the big wide ocean of the 'general' live music circuit.

Now, that might be a scary prospect for some bands. Playing goth scene gigs at least guarantees a ready-made audience, and a certain level of interest - in short, an informal support network which is there to be tapped into. Beyond the goth scene, none of this exists. You're on your own. It's sink or swim time.

Leisur Hive are brave enough to take the plunge. Rather than opt for a standard 'scene' gig, they've pitched up at one of London's prime indie venues, the Dublin Castle, in the middle of a general alternative bill, topped and tailed by a bunch of post-Britpop indie kids and a psychedelic combo from LA. They don't look quite as incongruous in this company as you might expect, because Leisur Hive are not your standard crimps-and-flounces goffband. They're rooted in the post-punk art-school end of goth: they're angular and new-wavey and they don't give a stuff about being 'goth enough'. They'd be equally at home supporting the Sex Gang Children or the Pixies, UK Decay or God Speed You Black Emperor. In some ways, they're actually more at home here than at a straightforward goth gig.

Before Leisur Hive take the stage, however, it's time for Forcis - the post-Britpop indie kids - to show us a thing or two. Their sound is abrasive, in that son-of-Sonic Youth manner which Blur suddenly latched on to round about the release of 'Song 2'. I'd guess that's the area Forcis are coming from: late-model American art-punk, filtered through a British indie sensibility. It's actually quite good - especially the squalls of bluesy guitar which erupt in some of their songs - and the bassist, writhing around like she's got a whole colony of rock 'n' roll ants in her pants, means that the visual side of things never gets dull. There's a bunch of teenage fans down the front (always a good sign, that) and a feeling in the air that this band is hungry to get somewhere. Whether they will or not is, of course, another matter. I suspect most record labels would regard Forcis as somewhat dated - their style is perhaps a little too mid-nineties Blur-meets-Dinosaur Jr to make the band qualify as the latest indie-scene sensation - but personally I won't hold this against them. After all, I like goth stuff, which most people would probably regard as dated and dead!

Leisur Hive arrange themselves on stage in a flurry of effects pedals. In a further subversion of the goth-norm, they're an entirely live band: guitar, bass, drums, vocals, another guitar and sometimes a violin. No backing tracks, no drum machines, no keyboards. They construct a clanking, buzzing, juggernaut of sound, all strange shapes and odd angles. Their song titles, scribbled on the set list down the front, read like an English class in non-sequiturs: 'On Sectional Pad', 'Applicant Seed', 'Neck Decision', and - my personal favourite - 'Shelves'. How can you fail to like a band which has a song called 'Shelves'? Lead singer/guitarist Dan works himself up into a frenzy of angst and passion (those pesky shelves certainly seem to have given him some stress) while the bass and drums lock tight and rumble along like a tank. Occasionally, Maria, the band's other guitarist, puts down her axe and takes up a violin. It's covered in hazard warning tape, and it makes a hazardous noise. If all this makes Leisur Hive sound like they're very much out on their own peculiar limb - well, yes, they are. But it's not just weirdness for the sake of weirdness. It *works*. It's all a bit heavy going for the teenage indie kids, but, encouragingly, a few brave souls in the audience start getting into it, and by the time the set shudders to a close, with Dan on the floor playing the effects pedals, Leisur Hive seem to have picked up a few new - and non-goth - fans. Which is a result. The fan-base broadens, the band moves on. There is method in Leisur Hive's madness.

Kiss The Frog, tonight's headliners (if a gig at which all the bands are more or less level-pegging in terms of profile can be said to have a headliner) are apparently winding up an extensive European tour. They're a wiggy art-rock psychedelic experience from California, and you can almost tell where they come from simply by looking at their clothes. The bass player's wearing beige slacks and burgundy loafers. He looks like he's just stepped off his yacht. Very laid-back. The music is mostly instrumental - long, looping workouts that unfurl and curl back on themselves. The bass is nimble, dancing all over the drums, which themselves jump around all over the place but still somehow keep the beat rock-solid and pushing forward. Over all this, great shuddering slabs of distort-o-guitar arrive like gatecrashers at a party. The band use about a squillion effects pedals, and sometimes they just seem to play the effects: the sounds are in the effects loops, going round and round, then out to the Theremin, and back again. Ah, yes, the Theremin. This is Kiss The Frog's secret weapon: played as a lead instrument, via all those effects pedals, it whoops and buzzes and shrieks like a whole army of fuzzed-out guitarists. The band seem to have attracted some fans from somewhere - they all look like Zonker in the Doonesbury cartoon strip - but mostly they're playing to a mix of goths and indie kids, all of whom, I'd guess, are utterly unfamiliar with the music. And yet, the room is captivated, and when the final song fades out in a fuzzstorm of effects, the applause is tremendous. I'm left feeling that maybe I should've got into the Grateful Dead after all. Dammit, this stuff is good.

Yep, that was a good gig, a good variety of music and people that all somehow all held together. Crossover successfully accomplished. Other bands please copy!

see all the photos from the show here

Kiss The Frog:  http://spacefuzz.com/ktf/home.php

Leisur Hive: http://www.geocities.com/leisurehive

Forcis: [No website]

Bugbear Promotions, promoters of the gig: http://www.geekrock.com/bugbear

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis: http://www.nemesis.to
 

Unto Ashes & Mors Syphlitica
Nov 2, 2002
The Pyramid, New  York
~review by Kim Mercil
 

After recently interviewing Unto Ashes for the Albion-Batcave zine, I was looking forward to seeing their performance on this particular evening. As I entered the venue, I spotted Michael Laird from Unto Ashes on the stage setting up. I was relieved at this since it took forever to find parking and I was sure they were on stage already. As they finished up their preparations it was time for the show to begin. They started the set with "Spider Song" a beautifully constructed medieval/renaissance style song, similar to that of Dead Can Dance. The unsurpassed talents of these four musicians was evident in their constant rotation of instrument playing. My favorite Unto Ashes song is "Serve Me" and to witness and hear this track for the very first time live was amazing. I was completely floored with their rendition of Christian Death's "Cavity (First Communion)" which just so happens to be my favorite Christian Death song as well. After captivating the audience with their own style and sound, I am going to make it a point to attend every Unto Ashes performance that I can.

Mors Syphlitica is made up of the NYC goth underground legends Eric and Lisa Hammer. I have been following their work for close to a decade now beginning with their first project Requiem in White. As with Unto Ashes, Eric Hammer's talents as a musician are over whelming to the senses. He can literally play any and all instruments that are handed to him and incorporated with Lisa's wonderful operatic vocal range makes this husband and wife duo a truly unique listening experience. Just coming off a month long tour, during which they got a chance to play with The Cruxshadows in Colorado; this was the last stop for them performing material from their latest release Feather & Fate. In the mean time, they are taking some time off to record a highly anticipated new cd. Lisa looked as gorgeous as ever and someone in the audience commented that she looked like Nicole Kidman from Moulin Rouge. The highlights of their performance were "Ungrateful Girl", "Galatea" and "Naturally Cruel". As they returned to the stage for an encore Eric had a small set back with a broken guitar string. Did that stop him? Of course not!  He brought out a mandolin and they ended the set with "Primrose".
 

Unto Ashes Set List:             Mors Syphlitica Set List:
The Spider and Her Prey           Whispers
Teach Me How to Drown           Ungrateful Girl
Morte o Merce                            Sins Of The Dove
Hymn To Pan                              Galatea
De Store Smerter                       Skins Of Lovers
Let's Go Down                            The Hues Of Longing
Serve Me                                     Naturally Cruel
Cavity (First Communion)          Feather & Fate
(Don't Fear) The Reaper            How Long

Unto Ashes
http://www.untoashes.com

Mors Syphlitica
http://www.morssyphilitica.com/
 

Whitby Gothic Weekend
Part 1: Friday November 1
Spermwhale
Season's End
Ordinary Psycho
The Beautiful Deadly Children
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis

The Whitby Gothic Weekend is steadily expanding. Every year, it seems more fringe events are added to the core two-day festival: it's now possible to spend four days or more, soaking up goth-culture in this endearingly picturesque Yorkshire town. But the heart of the weekend still remains the two 'band nights' at the Spa Pavillion (or the Pavillion Complex, as they now seem to be calling it). This is still the place where everyone wants to be - even if they spend the entire night socialising in the foyer, and never actually enter the main room to see the bands.

But for those of us who do make a point of getting in front of the Whitby stage, there's always something worth watching. This time round, the WGW presents a bill of seven bands in total, with the Friday night line-up being a showcase of new talent. The opening slot of this night must be the toughest gig in the entire UK goth scene. Not only does the opening band have to make its presence felt to a crowd who, at that early stage of the evening, are probably more concerned with meeting friends and getting the drinks in than paying attention to unfamiliar bands, but the first band very often sets the tone for the whole night. A good set, well received, puts the whole weekend on a roll. A set which doesn't go down so well can sometimes slow the night down at just the point when it should be gathering pace.

Fortunately, The Beautiful Deadly Children can't fail to grab attention and get the party started. They're dressed like an explosion in the wardrobe department of the Rocky Horror show, and they're as camp as a row of pink tents. Come to think of it, if you showed them a row of pink tents they'd probably try to make ball gowns out of 'em. A stern-faced woman plays a keyboard in a case shaped like a coffin. A tall creature of the night looms over a sampler. A glam-rock guitarist skulks in the background. And there's a female dancer in an assortment of fancy outfits - some elaborate, some so skimpy they're hardly there. And the frontman - well, he's something else. He's dressed as Old Nick, with the demeanour and between-song banter of Larry Grayson¹. He arrives on stage to applause from the audience, who can't quite believe what they're seeing. 'I do like a big hand on my entrance,' he remarks, and the band thunder off into their set. Now, all the outrageous costumes in the world aren't going to be much use if the music turns out to be lame, but here the Beautiful Deadly Children have a trump card up their [pause, throw quizzical glance at audience] sleeves. Their music is actually rather good. It's an unholy collision between rumbustious glam-rock and thumping great electro-dance anthems. It's full speed ahead, foot to the floor stuff, the vocals roared out over the top of it all in a stentorian bellow. With song titles like 'Gothic Sex Machine' and 'I am a Dalek' (during which the band brandish sink plungers in a disturbingly menacing fashion) you can tell they're playing it for laughs...and yet not so, because the music, the costumes, and the show as a whole, have obviously been crafted with an entirely serious attention to detail. I suspect the Beautiful Deadly Children will captivate and horrify audiences in equal measure in the future, but tonight their crazed collision of Las Vegas and Transylvania worked just fine.

Ordinary Psycho are a complete contrast: a bunch of blokes who, going by appearances, effortlessly live up to the first part of their name. Appearances can be deceptive, however, for although the band might not look particularly outrageous, there's a spark of passion in their music. They play a tight, well-drilled brand of chip-on-the-shoulder rock, mixing uptempo tunes with more reflective, quieter numbers. Their lyrics seem to have a certain stroppy, protest-song element - in fact, they actually have a song called 'The Protest Song', and other titles such as 'Not Without A Fight'  and 'Something More Than This' drop more clues to the band's approach. If you're now thinking, 'Hmmm...sounds a bit New Model Army-ish,' you wouldn't be far wrong. That's probably Ordinary Psycho's area - and they even have a song called 'Downtown America' which is essentially their '51st State'. Their stage presence isn't particularly attention-grabbing, it must be said: the lead singer carries the show with impassioned gestures at the mic, but the other members of the band seem reluctant to step forward and take any real part in the performance. Apparently the band are playing with a stand-in guitarist, which perhaps explains why one member might be a little hesitant about claiming his place in the spotlight, but the bassist, who reluctantly comes to the front to contribute his backing vocals, and then scuttles off to the safety of the back of the stage once he's finished, simply ends up leaving a big empty space on the singer's right, which no amount of gesticulations at the vocal mic can fill. The verdict has to be, good songs - but not much of a show. And on the big stage at Whitby - indeed on *any* big stage - you've really *got* to have a show.

If Ordinary Psycho pushed the Whitby atmosphere in a New Model Army direction, Season's End give it a hefty shove in the direction of metal. For that's what Season's End are: a metal band. Sure, goth overlaps with metal, just like it overlaps with more or less everything, so the band's presence at the Whitby Gothic Weekend is not entirely incongruous. But all the same, I can't help feeling that the band are barking up the wrong tree with their attempts to win over the goth audience. The metal scene, which is far larger and more successful than goth, is the place where Season's End could really carve out a career. It's nice that they obviously like the goth scene enough to want to be part of it...but the goth scene isn't the stuff of which great careers are made, let's face it. Well, whatever. Season's End are here now, so let's see what they can do. The line-up has changed since we last saw the band: the original (male) lead singer has left, and the female backing singer has now moved up to the lead vocal spot. This immediately gives the band a fresh and distinctive identity - dare I say it, they should've ditched the bloke long ago! The music is complex, slightly proggy, metal, full of time-changes and loud/soft dynamics. It's all very controlled and precise (I bet this band practically lives in the rehearsal studio) - even down to the sudden bursts of headbanging, which erupt at intervals in certain songs. I get the distinct impression that the singer doesn't really like doing this: every time the boys in the band launch into one of their headbanging-frenzies, hair going all over the place, the singer seems to hesitate momentarily, and I can almost hear her thinking, 'Aw, no, they're off again. Well, I s'pose I'd better do it too, otherwise I'll look left out!' Meanwhile, the audience is getting into the music (although not to the extent of joining in the headbanging) and the conclusion of the set is greeted with huge cheers and cries for more. Hmmm. Maybe there's something in this business of playing metal to a goth audience after all.

And another contrast. Spermwhale are a three-piece electronic combo who seem to be heading down a sometimes rather self-consciously quirky electroclash path. They perform thumping, mid-tempo, 80s-influenced electronic pop songs, with lugubrious male vocals and lyrics which, by and large, seem to consist of the same few simple phrases repeated over and over. It's fun, in a throwaway manner, but sometimes the band give the impression they're trying a little too hard to be a bit left-field. There's a certain air of 'We know we're contrived, you know we're contrived, isn't this all so post-modern and cool?'  Well...maybe! Certainly, I can't rid myself of the feeling that the band sprang from a blueprint, rather than a sudden burst of inspiration. But wait - two members of Spermwhale seem suspiciously familiar, and sure enough close inspection reveals that the lead singer is Steven, keyboard player of Seize, while one of Spermwhale's keyboard players is Sandrine, the singer of Seize. Does this mean that Spermwhale are nothing more than a Seize side-project, an opportunity for the Seize-duo to lark about in a band which we're not supposed to take so seriously? Or are they hedging their bets, trying their luck with an electroclash group, just in case the commercial dance-pop of Seize doesn't make the breakthrough? It's all a bit of a mystery. Taken at face value, Spermwhale are groovy entertainment (more so than Seize, I have to say) but I'm just not sure how 'for real' this band is. As a big finish to their set, they rattle through a version of Abba's 'Gimme Gimme Gimme a Man After Midnight' - a song which has been covered so many times in more or less 'ironic' style (everyone from the Sisters Of Mercy to Erasure has had a go) that I really can't give Spermwhale any credit for having an *idea*. See what I mean about a blueprint, rather than inspiration? In the end, I'm not sure whether I should bother too much about Spermwhale - because, odd though this might seem, I just don't know whether the members of the band itself are particularly bothered...

An strangely inconclusive end to the Friday night bands, then. In a faintly surreal development, Spermwhale win the battle of the bands vote, shortly after the live sets finish. This is most odd, because they certainly didn't have a huge crowd of fans clustering to the front during their stage: in fact, the audience was so sparse it was very easy for me to move around and take photos. In contrast, Season's End had by far the biggest crowd, to the point where I found it quite difficult to worm my way through the crush of bodies to grab a good photo-position. I suspect all the Season's End fans (and, indeed, many guitar-goth fans in general) had left the band-room when Spermwhale came on, and thus weren't around to show support when the votes were called. A win by default, then, for Spermwhale, rather than by genuine popular acclaim, and an example of how the element of competition between bands at Whitby isn't quite as useful as you might at first think. (As a matter of fact, the battle of the bands may well be discontinued at future WGW's).

Time for some dancing, then, as the DJs take over...and then we'll be back tomorrow for the Saturday night line-up...

Whitby Gothic Weekend
Part 2: Saturday November 2
Last Rites
The Narcissus Pool
Swarf
~review and photos by Uncle Nemesis

Bleary-eyed and somewhat hungover, we stagger back into the venue for the second of the two Whitby Gothic Weekend band-nights. Tonight's show is interesting in that it features two of the current UK scene's main contenders, Swarf and The Narcissus Pool, plus an old-skool supergroup of sorts: Last Rites. This is the band formed by Nod and Paul Wright, the original drummer and guitarist from Fields Of The Nephilim. The new blood and the old stagers. Who'll make the most impact tonight?

It's still early when Swarf arrive on stage, but even so they pull an impressively large crowd to the front. This seems to be Swarf's Pokemon-style Special Power: they can draw in a large and enthusiastic audience under any circumstances. Down at the front with my camera, I turn and look back over the crowd, remembering how I did this during Swarf's set at C8 in Montreal. Then, I was astonished to see just how large a crowd they'd attracted. Here in Whitby, where the band are obviously better-known, it's not such a surprise to find they've done it again, but even so - getting the Whitby band-room packed and jumping so soon after doors-open is no mean feat. Dammit, this band has *got* something! To be a bit more specific, what they've got is a batch of killer songs, a lead vocalist who can sing up a storm, and an engaging on-stage personality which pulls everybody in. The set is familiar stuff for long-term Swarf fans: 'Subtext', 'Shadows', 'Fall' - all the favourites are present and correct - but because Swarf are still quite a new band, there are still plenty of people who are unfamiliar with their material, so there's no hint of same-old same-old tonight. The boys in the band concentrate on their electronics, Chris wearing his trademark apprehensive expression (Swarf are not a backing-track band: everything you hear is generated or triggered live - things can, and sometimes do, go wrong!), but it all flows seamlessly as Liz bounces around the stage in a flurry of purple dreadlocks, giving us *that* voice and inspiring an outbreak of enthusiastic dancing from stage-front to the back of the hall. In short, a classic Swarf set. Now stand well back and watch this band become stars!

The Narcissus Pool are old friends of the WGW. They march on stage in full punk regalia, Phill White, the frontman, wearing an old suit jacket with the top pocket stuffed with dollars. 'I've got an interesting new job,' he informs us by way of introduction. 'I bury the dead for a living.' (It's true: he's a funeral director in real life. Give this man a hundred goth points!)  And then the band crank up a no-shit punk-rock storm, lurching into a boisterous, rollicking set of in-yer-face tunes. Phill delivers the lyrics in a sardonic drawl - particularly effective on 'Narcissist' where the line 'You'll always be inferior no matter what you do' is snarled out with a large side-order of bile. Over on the left, guitarist Polly looks like he's just beamed down from Peter And The Test Tube Babies, while on the other side of the stage, Shane, the band's other guitarist, prowls around in gangster shades while the keyboard player at the back, in sideburns and pimp-hat, grooves away. It's like watching a punk band as directed by Quentin Tarantino. It's loud and brash and oozes a peculiarly ramshackle, sleazy style (can you be ramshackle and sleazy at the same time?). The crowd are delighted - this is the kind of take-no-prisoners show that really works at Whitby, and great gusts of applause greet the conclusion of every song. On 'Alan Smithee Presents...' Shane snaps a guitar string, but The Narcissus Pool have no intention of stopping the show while he fixes it. They just keep barrelling on, playing one man down while Shane frantically tries to re-string his guitar at the side of the stage. As a grand finale, the keyboard player grabs a bass, and the band launch into a full-tilt version of Carter USM's 'Sheriff Fatman, with backing vocals by the Whitby crowd. Yep, that was a damn fine set. Punk's not dead - it's just been assimilated by The Narcissus Pool.

You can tell when a 'big' band is about to take the stage at Whitby - all of a sudden roadies appear from nowhere, scuttling about the stage like a collection of scruffy ants, moving a microphone stand just a few vital inches this way or that, frowning at the backline like it's just done something naughty, sticking the set lists down with gaffa tape (you know you've made it in the music business when you have a special tape-down-the-set-list roadie!) and carefully placing an array of beer cans and bottled water at strategic locations. All of this sends a message to the audience: Big Band Incoming! Take Your Places Now!

As a matter of fact, Last Rites aren't really a big band in their own right - they've just grabbed a bit of major-league kudos from the fact that the band's founder members are Nod and Paul Wright, ex-of the Nephilim. With Carl McCoy's own career currently in the dumper (let's face it, a complete dearth of new material in recent years, followed by a half-hearted album of reheated left-overs, followed in its turn by yet another band/record label dispute doesn't exactly count as forging ahead, does it?) all eyes are on Last Rites to carry things forward. The Wright brothers make no claim to be a continuation of the Neph by other means (and they're even more reticent about their more recent past in Rubicon!), but they're obviously aware that most of their fanbase will come from disgruntled Neph-heads who've become fed up with waiting for McCoy to shift his arse. Last Rites don't play old Nephilim songs, but their artwork has a distinctly familiar style to it. They give a nod (ha!) to their past, without wallowing in it. Which is probably the best way of handling things, I reckon.

So, what *are* they like? Well, like an extremely professional rock band, basically. The sound has that 'dark' feel, without being a rehash of the Nephilim's noise. The songs are anthemic - they build to dramatic climaxes. Everything's pretty much mid-tempo - the band never really steps on the gas and rocks out. The vocalist simply stands at the mic, as casually as if he's waiting for a bus, and delivers the lyrics without breaking sweat. The two guitarists and the bass player are also obviously of the 'just stand there' school, although the bald guitarist on the right does occasionally venture a foot-on-the-monitor pose. Behind the drum kit, Nod's trademark hat (he's still wearing it, after all these years) is occasionally visible as he keeps the beat nailed down. They're all impeccable musicians, and if it's pure technique you're after, they've got it by the truckload. But they never cut loose, they never give way to unbridled passion. They don't have any killer lodge-in-your-brain songs: the *sound* is there, but the songs come and go in a frankly rather anonymous stream. I was waiting for the band to really crank it up and go into their big showstopper - something with the escalating tension and sheer *drive* of 'Preacher Man', for example. Alas, it seems Last Rites don't have any songs with that kind of kick. I'm forced to the conclusion that while Carl McCoy might be an unreliable underachiever these days, the one talent he did have was that mysterious gift of inspiration - the ability to have an *idea*, then bring that idea out into the light, and form it into something special. Last Rites don't seem to have that intangible spark. They're competent and workmanlike and in the absence of the real McCoy, I suppose they'll do. But, to be blunt, if it wasn't for the Neph connection, they'd be just another rock band.

After the bands, there's the fashion show (judged by DJ Lucy*Fur from Edinburgh, Rose McDowall from Sorrow/Strawberry Switchblade, and a very embarassed-looking Nod Wright), and then the DJs kick in for a few hours of dancing. The Whitby Gothic Weekend isn't anywhere near over yet, but the bands are packing up, the trucks outside are backing up, and the sound crew are getting ready to dismantle the PA. The final verdict has to be that the new talent coming through is, in all sorts of ways, superior to the old talent that's still hanging around. A harsh judgement on the old-skoolers? Well, maybe. But perhaps it's time to recognise just how good many of our contemporary bands are.

See All the photos from this event here

Last Rites:  http://www.lastrites.org

The Narcissus Pool: http://www.razorbladebeat.co.uk

Swarf:  http://www.swarf.org.uk

The Whitby Gothic Weekend site:  http://www.topmum.co.uk

The StarVox Whitby Gothic Weekend feature: http://www.starvox.net/crypt/whitby/whitby.htm

Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis:  http://www.nemesis.to