That Exploded

O Children, The Chapman Family, and The Tunics @Fruit

Whoops. Out of touch. First gig I've been to at Fruit.

Friday night and a triple bill of out-of-town bands unfortunately the first band up, The Tunics, sound pretty much like your average Hull band (despite hailing from London): bland, inoffensive with a twist of excessive self worth. Next...

I should have known from reading Shakespeare that I shouldn`t judge on names alone, but I`m still shocked when The Chapman Family turn out to be angry young men, raging against the world and thank god as my expectations of 'The Jackson Five' meets 'Mumford and Sons' were laying heavy on my brain – so this dark melodic stomp is something of a pleasant surprise. Well, at least until the final song where the singer decides to throw a faux- strop, kick a can off-stage and tie the mic cord around his neck, before executing a couple of 'Louie Spence' style arm thrusts. Fortunately, for him and us he spared us the forward roll and cartwheels. Call me cynical but it is all very amateur dramatic, darling.

Now we do have a band, polished and intense. O Children, named after a 'Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds' song eclipse all else that has happened tonight. The previous zombie like crowd shuffle forward into a dance of the dead as singer Tobi O'Kandi leads them astray. A quick glance around the Internet finds several sceptics and nay sayers, many recalling that O Children are just re-enacting some of the haunting bands of the late-70s and early-80s (see 'Bauhaus'), more still will wonder what continues to attract the kids to such darkness, what with rising incomes and a perceived lack of struggle. But as the gap between the ‘haves’ and the ‘have nots’ persists and grows then pure teenager idealism finds itself increasingly isolated, at odds with a world of budget cuts and halved expectations: a world that O Children could well find themselves soundtracking during the next couple of years. 

 

Men Daimler, La Bête Blooms, and Sam Jones @ The Adelphi

Hurrah, at last. Great golden relief as I finally come across a young Hull band that I actually like. Anyway, more of that in a moment, first it is time for ire.

I won`t lie, my heart sank when I saw Sam Jones clamber on stage to open the night. I just don`t feel the need to laugh at someone’s surprisingly public, awkwardness. By all means go on stage and self-taunt liberally, but too many jokes tonight scream “HELLO I`M AWKWARD, THAT’S FUNNY*” – followed by some penis joke. Nope, after x years of living, I still don`t find the mention of male genitalia that funny. No, not even when said with wide maniacal eyes and a scary grin. Maybe it is just me. Then there is the rather ill-judged song about wanting male equality. Seriously, if you are going down that route then make the content funny and not some half-arsed summary of all the unfunny anti-feminist jokes of the last twenty years. However, there were moments that brought a smile (and that should be applauded as I am an inordinately stroppy git these days): some of the rhymes and word play in parts were great, and the use of Christian Bale rant inventive, but ultimately ruined by Sam playing the his final card, oft the comedian’s last desperate attempt to get a laugh: dressing up as a woman.

Being mean and nasty (see above) is so much easier than being nice. After only seeing one gig by La Bête Blooms, rather than make some vast and likely misguided attempt to describe the band by throwing together comparisons to The XX and Pulp – oh crap, I just did, although I`m still not sure I meant it – let’s summarise my thoughts in an example act. The day after the gig, I spent a fair few hours trawling myspace to find the name of said band and I was none too disappointed with what I found. Finally, a young Hull band that I`m willing to leave the house to watch.

Men Daimler, as constantly returning performer and a much-loved one, is woven into the history of the Adelphi. He is a talent that bemuses the crowds by not being more famous than he actually is.  Tonight our man screams, cries, dances and rambles his way through a night of song and frolics; captivating by halves.

 *Normally I would refuse to type in capitals, but it mirrors the unsubtly of Sam Jones.  

 

Japanese Voyeurs And The Holy Orders @ The Adelphi

Excitement, disappointment and an early night.

Giddy as a schoolboy would be an exaggeration, but let’s just say I was pretty happy when I found out that the Japanese Voyeurs were playing the Adelphi. Not because I had been an avid follower of the band. More because I can remember hearing an early release and enjoying the fuzzed up sound that protruded from my speakers – I think I even waxed lyrical on the old website about them. So, yes, happiness that I could finally check this band out live as I`d rather neglected to continue my interest.

I was even happier when I found out the Holy Orders had been asked to support. So there I was primed for a good night. Matt Edible and company pull out all the stops – as you expect – to put on a great Holy Orders performance with ‘To The Gallows’ still at its heart stopping best and ‘Breathe’ getting a much anticipated outing.

Ok, time to come clean. The night before the gig, I had finally decided I should listen to the Japanese Voyeurs to see how that had developed over the last 12 months. And there it was, I was confronted with this unrecognisable band hailed as the saviours of grunge (note to self: ALWAYS avoid over the top press). AGH. “No” I tell myself, the gig is still worth it and, of course, I can always leave if it’s rubbish.

Initial signs were promising. The band sit and watch The Holy Orders performance and clap, seemingly enthusiastically – not enough bands stay to watch the support acts, so credit to the JVs here. Nice touch. Unfortunately, when the music begins all the misgivings come flooding back and, four songs in, I grab my coat, before heading to the exit door.

Time and time again I have re-analysed the four Japanese Voyeurs’ songs I stuck around for. What is it that just made me need to flee? The ‘samey’ trend metal air to each track, where obvious rifts echoed around obvious flailing hair, didn`t help – but that wasn`t solely it. What made me run was the complete lack of believability in the band. Here is a band that wants you to believe they crawl about the night screaming about the depths of humanity has sunk to, occasionally sinking themselves too, yet everything seems posed, clean cut and cool, too cool. The music, lyrics and image made me squirm ok, but not in the way the Japanese Voyeurs intended.