Friday 10 May 2002

I am a bear of very little brain. Occasionally, the humour moves me to try my hand at reviewing without the aid of copious notes. I inevitably fall flat on my face, as the alcohol which enabled me to have the great time that I'm attempting to review has eroded what is left of what I used to laughingly call my memory. And that's just watching one band. Well, hey - let's see how terribly innaccurate I can get when I try four, or five, in one go. Woohoo!!!!!!

Who's first, then? Ah, that'd be Mr Little Hero, now, wouldn't it? I'm kind of a fan of ver Hero (as he doesn't like to be called), but he always seems to work to best effect in a very attentive environment and, remarkably, that's exactly what he got tonight. Arriving in my drunken stupor, I was surprised to find myself surrounded by groovy young people hanging upon his every utterance. Man, it was like Woodstock, albeit without the mud, or the acid, or so many hippies. Good, though. Particularly touching was "Tony Song", where (in song) Pete tells us about how he's writing a song for his dad, about his uncle. He doesn't exactly say why, but he doesn't really need to - the apparent hope in the chorus refrain of "this is a call for us getting together" is rather undermined by the impression that the family reunion won't be a joyful occasion. A good, low-key set that addressed the audience as other human beings, rather than as "The Audience". If you see what I mean.

Next up, and in their debut at the Yorkie, it's Face of Change, who at least partially answer a niggling worry of mine about who it is that buys all those records by Nickleback. Not that they're a tribute band or anything (before I get my head kicked in), but they're certainly drawing from the same well of angsty, melodic rock as Ver 'Back, and they are rather good at it - they've got great melodic riffs, and yer man the singer has got a good grasp of a lyrical hook that digs into your brain. On the down side, though, well-crafted as it was, the opening number did seem to go on for maybe a minute or so too long (I'm not being too harsh here - that would still leave it with a good five or six minutes to be going on with). It also contained the repeated phrase "the anarchy of pain", an interesting idea, except that pain is usually very predictable - it just hurts. Or am I missing a master-stroke of irony, here, like in, for example, "the poverty of stock-broking"? Ah, forget it, I obviously ought to get out more ofen. Against all of that tosh, you've got a great bassist, a strong front man and a VERY unexpected cover version of "Johnny B Goode". Most welcome, although I felt for the lead guitarist, who was very obviously riffing away like billy-o, but sadly was almost completely inaudible. But he did look good......

Unexpectedly, Bluey take things a little further down-key, by virtue of being acoustic, and only 66% being in attendance. Obviously, under the circumstances, you only get a taste of what the band is like, but the atmosphere was quite jolly, and some nice harmonies and tidy guitar playing made it all very enjoyable indeed. Apparently their drummer is something of a demonic skin-beater (and a very good percussionist, too), which left me feeling a little sorry that he hadn't come on down as well - what was good natured fun could easily have been full-on RAWK, and I like that sort of thing. Oh well, next time, maybe.

Some bands make me nervous just by going on stage. The element of unpredictablilty. The hope that they'll play well. The hope that everything won't go wrong for the next twenty minutes. The Pier Group are such a band. Every time the Pier Group take the stage, I nearly crap myself, worrying that everything will be okay. Mind you, I am their guitar player. I know, it's bad form to review yourself, so I won't, but I thought it went quite well, didn't you? Lads? Lads....????? Oh suit yourselves. But I won't hear a word against it.

So, neatly wrapping up the night are Dry Riser, a jovial crew of lads who looked like they were having a great time, and who sounded....well, "American" would be one word I'd use. Not that being a member of the United States of "A" is a bad thing in itself - I'm simply impressed that the age-old custom of "Singing in an American accent" has now been surplanted by "Rapping in an American accent". Well, it's progress, after a fashion, I suppose, (albeit almost entirely after Fashion). Ver Riser give you that Bizkit-y, Alien Ant Farm-y shouty-rawky shtick, and whilst they're pretty darn good at it, and whilst they're certainly not the first British people to pretend to be foreign for commercial purposes, there's just something about that which feels a little shallow. On the good side of things, if I hadn't stuck around to watch them, I wouldn't have had one of the most welcome pints of Guinness of recent years, so well done there, chaps. I'm a big fan of an old fashioned variety bill, and tonight that's very much what the Music Co-Op gave us. As Dry Riser would say, "I thank you". Mind you, they'd probably keep on saying it.....

Paddy Garrigan