Ministry C U LaTour : Glasgow Carling Academy

Ministry are archetypal legends of industrial rock, Al Jougensen, responsible for not only Ministry but other genre defining moments of genius such as Revolting Cocks and 1000 Homo DJs, fronts the band in black frock coat, top hat & shades while swinging back and forth on his goat’s skull crucifix mic stand – occasionally leaning over the chain link fence that separates the band from the crowd on this tour. Joining him front of stage are moody guitar god cliche Sin Quirin (who also played in RevCo) and Prong‘s very own Tommy Victor – strutting and running about in a kilt for the night – and “new boy” Tony Campos from Static X taking over bass duties after Paul Raven’s untimely death last year.

This is Ministry’s final tour and the set features songs from each of Ministry’s albums rather than concentrating on the hits, the second encore features cover versions ending the night rather disappointingly on Wonderful World. The general feeling being that a “Greatest Hits” show would have been enjoyed more on this farewell tour but then almost everyone here tonight has a “They were great the last time I saw them!” story to tell. From what I saw, the band and music are still as good as ever but apart from the dedicated pit mob the crowd has too many folk the wrong side of their youth to feedback the energy required to lift the band’s performance to the heights of yesteryear.

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Late Of The Pier : Glasgow Barfly

I’m not certain what I witnessed tonight, unparalleled pretentious bullshit is probably the most succinct description. But let’s put that to one side for a minute and aim for a less emotive recap of the gig if we can.

The Displacements are four rather smartly dressed young boys from Leicester and totally inoffensive & forgettable tonight. The empty room and Glasgow’s often surprising apathy for bands touted as “Ones To Watch” leave them fighting a losing battle during much of their stage time. It ends up as a fine, by-the-numbers jaunt through 2008 indie trends but the scene kids just aren’t there to listen so it all feels like wasted effort from the band.

And talking of wasted time, we come to Late Of The Pier‘s set. Now don’t get me wrong, I was unbiased when I turned up, I liked & grew to enjoy their single The Bears Are Coming, the follow up & most recent release Bathroom Gurgle I’d tentatively filed under “nae to bad”. I ignored the reports of the band acting like wankers on T4′s Green Room and didn’t take any notice when the venue staff rolled eyes with a story of the ridiculous rider asked for by a band at this level. I was unconcerned, the band are hotly tipped for big things, this could be a gig to list in future years, “I saw them when…”

Gods was I wrong. Disbelief at the utter, utter festering shite I was being subjected to kept me going through the first few minutes, commitment to myself to work taking photos and to write a fair review kept me going for while longer. But all too quickly the bands superior better-than-thou attitude had removed from me any desire to give their music a chance. From what I took note of before giving up, the guitars are for fashion rather than playing, the synths would be better in the hands of three year olds or Ross from Friends and the tunes barely deserve to be recognised as music.

Late of the Pier are like a really bad movie that you’re meant to laugh at because it’s so bad. Except it’s so bad that it isn’t even funny, no matter how wasted you could get. The only enjoyment is the self-conscious laughter at ourselves, to hide the embarrassment that someone out there has played such a joke and managed to fool anyone into thinking that this is a real worthwhile band. Their attitude throughout was so overpoweringly superior and self-important that I seriously considered the ethics of whether they were worth the time spent on reviewing them.

So I left. It’s ill-mannered, rude and unprofessional but I left halfway through, and felt relieved when I did. So Late of the Pier end up with an accolade after all, they are the first and only band I have committed to review that have been so unremittingly awful that they’ve driven me to go home and watch BBC’s Sign Zone instead.

[flickr tags='displacements,lateofthepier']

Zombina And The Skeletones : Glasgow Barfly

Zombina And The Skeletones is just the sort of band name to conjure up a cheesy faux-fifties horror movie psychobilly gig and the last time I saw them play at the Glasgow Barfly they shared the stage with the fake blood & gut’s of Karloff and the aptly named Groovie Ghoulies. Could Zombina hold their own as headliners on a non-themed bill?

Openers for the night, Crossfire sounded good right up until they started shouting. Punk vocals have never had a reputation for subtle beauty but some semblance of singing is still required rather than getting the words out as loud as you can. It’s a pretty tight performance though but I’m left a little disappointed, it’s what I would hope from my punk bands when they’re in the studio, on stage I want more attitude, more fuck you, more drunken inability to play instruments and to feel that the bassist is gonna kick my head in if I write a bad review or at least spit on me if I look at him funny. It’s punk, in fact it’s good punk – with a skinhead ska tune thrown in for good measure – but it feels very safe.

The Retrofrets do their best to dodge my genre pigeon-holes, the male vocalist has some nice high-heeled boots and the female lead guitar wears a boys shirt & tie but this playing with gender fashion stereotypes has nothing to do with their music so lets not mention it at all. They’re good, playing a blues song, a jazz tinged number, an indie ballad number and some rock, and some more rock. One set doesn’t feel like enough to get to know them though and it’s noted to look out for their next local gig. However they lose a few cool points by committing the incredible faux-pas of sideswiping their headliners by encouraging their audience to head upstairs to hear the Bitchfits, luckily through chance or sensible planning Zombina hold back their stage time until folk filter back downstairs.

And Zombina are well, they’re Zombina and the Skeletones. Describing Zombina as psychobilly is a misnomer, more bubblegum-punk than psycho and much more doo-wop than rockabilly or any other -billy in fact. Neither are the band horror-punk, they’re far too cute and playfully tongue-in-cheek. Singing rock n roll love songs about teenagers who, purely incidentally, may yearn longingly after evil scientists, have psychopathic killing tendencies or who may indeed be dead (or undead, obviously). The set is pure rock n roll fun, full of favourites, full of songs catchy enough to pick up by the second chorus even if you’ve never heard them before. All that undead zombie blood & make-up and cross-boned skull on the bass drum can be ignored and there’s still a good time party band that would entertain anyone, Yes, they’d even make even the dead get up and dance.
There I said it, I like the sixties sci-fi and b-movie horror theme, I like that Zombina gigs are an excuse for dressing up in antique top hats and skeleton tights. But what I like most is that there is no need, the band are good, the tunes are excellent, their gigs are never a disappointment.

[flickr tag=zombina]

The Holloways – Glasgow Garage

The last time I intended to go see The Holloways was as support for Babyshambles who inevitably cancelled… The Holloways still played a show that night, in a different venue, and despite not being able to make it along, I appreciated that they still played for their own fans—maybe touring with Pete Doherty you learn quick to make alternative arrangements as a backup. Tonight it’s co-headliners The Wombats who don’t show up—their singer has a sore throat—but this time The Holloways fans are the majority of the sold-out crowd so the show goes on, it’s been a successful year after all.

The crowd are an unexpected mix to be honest, it’s not just all teenage girls crushing on the band and teenage boys crushing on the teenage girl fans; there’s an edgier look to some of the fans, some look like they’ve never worn eye-liner in their life—a rare thing at gigs these days and there’s a group of ageing late-twenties lads in, swigging back the lagers in stereotypical lout manner. There’s even a couple of us old enough to recognise the impromptu Kenneth Williams impression halfway through the set. Infamy, infamy…!

The Holloways themselves I find an awkward bunch to describe, frontman Alfie Jackson, appears to be straight out of a Dexy’s Midnight Runners cover band; the tunes are touched by the Libertines’ influence and range from indie bubblegum punk to calypso tinged 2-Tone style ska, with Rob Skipper throwing in shades of the Levellers via a tiger-striped old fiddle for many tunes. It’s all very pop. And indie, and punk-ish and ska and dancehall.

The band are undeniably catchy, by the time Happy Birthday is sang for Alfie and the band follow up with, soon to be re-released, Two Left Feet I want to be up there on stage with them and adored by such an enthusiastic crowd. And enthusiastic the crowd most emphatically are, raising visions of structural engineers being called in to check the dance floor after it seems to flex beyond recovery as the whole place bounces and sings along in perfect time. But the mood drops a little after this as they play a new song and then slide into slower, less well known, material. In fact my interest wanders so much that I only just notice them leaving the stage.

Luckily The Holloways have kept two of their best aces in store for the encore. Great Britain provides a huge Specials-esque party jam and ending on Generator ensures the audience leave happy, having bounced and danced to their heart’s content. There may not be anything too original from The Holloways but this gig has convinced me that I’m not going to care while the music’s playing, they can play an excellent dancehall show generating music to make you feel better and lift you out of that rut even if just for that hot & sweaty hour throwing yourself around in a heaving, dancing crowd.

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The SpoiltCat.com Blog only has one rule, “Never apologise for lack of updates.”

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