It’s crazy how time changes you. When I was 16 all I wanted was heavy stuff to blow my socks off. Now I want contrast and intelligence.
I’ve been a bit slack with blogging lately, despite having seen a fair few gigs in the last couple of months. Mowbird‘s album launch on Friday was enough to motivate me to get back on it.
Rhodri Brooks kicked everything off as a solo dude onstage, before a drummer and keyboard player unexpectedly joined him – the music was still understated at times with some simple rhythms, but all the better and catchier for it.
Furrow were on soon afterwards, and were definitely not quiet. They again took the lo-fi approach as a two piece, but were rock n roll in spirit. Some good effects on the bass meant they never sounded flat, just punk rock – straight and to the point.
Mowbird were scuzzy and great. Having seen them before a couple of times, I knew what to expect, and the intimate venue (Four Bars) suited them. Everyone was in and amongst their cacophony, which the band seemed to feed off and embrace. In the ultimate testament to how good they are, I bought their album afterwards, which is a beautiful blue vinyl number. Purchase it if you can – it’s out now on Shape Records.
In sharp contrast I went to see Limp Bizkit on Saturday. This reflects badly on me. Even worse than normal because Future of the Left were playing the same night (who I’ve never seen live, but I’m told are wondrously full of carnage). In my defence I’d already committed to see Limp Bizkit before Future of the Left confirmed their gig.
A couple of years ago I got persuaded to relive my youth and see them at Reading. Despite my reservations, they were a great live band. So despite the fact that they’re not really my thing these days, I thought it might be worth it to hang out with some friends and have some good times.
I’m not going to say what I thought of the support bands – it seems churlish to give them jip when you’re not a fan of the genre.
Limp Bizkit were a shade of the band they were at Reading. Their set was jampacked with interludes, which may add to the hip-hop credentials they occasionally look to foster, but detracted from the immediacy that they’ve had in the past. They also began playing some covers during their set, some Metallica tracks, and even a full cover of Rage Against the Machine’s Killing in the Name Of (which just served to highlight how little they have to say in comparison – the band who did it all for the Nookie played someone else’s song and never looked like they truly believed that those who run forces really do burn crosses).
So perhaps it serves me right for going to see them, but I’m only slating them because I’ve seen them better before. Yes the lyrics are inane, but when they end with Break Stuff, I’m reminded of how I used to headbang so hard to it that I’d end up with a headache.
Still, I haven’t seen as many red baseball hats as that since their 1999 heyday, so that was nice.