Second Sun Rising...an apology!

Look back a couple of reviews and you'll see a mention of a band that I called Second Son Rising. Thanks to a combination of old age and booze I got their name wrong (that explains why I couldn't find them on the interweb!).

Check out their My Space site now for some cracking toons.

Misty's Big Adventure 'Fashion Parade' feat Noddy Holder

Genius. Sheer genius.

Coldrice 5th Birthday Party Saturday 21st October 2006 Somewhere in Birmingham...with loads of bands...loads...seriously...

(pictured above, Mr Dan Sartain ladies and gentleman)

Read the previous post and you'll know I have a hangover. That's what you get for OD'ing on JD and cokes...still you're only young once...and I was once.

Anyway Coldrice, for the uneducated, is a kind of club night that features some of the best bands in the world, bands who most people have never heard of...shame, shame, thrice shame (my god I'm turning into Frankie Howard).

It used to be held in the Bar Academy (little venue in Brum, one of the better places to see live music) but it's now moved to an industrial park in the arse end of Digbeth (place that Birmingham City Council is trying to turn into a kind of Camden - artsy and all that - but is still full of industrial units and rats).

You have to register on the Coldrice website then get an invite before you can go along, we've been to quite a few of the Bar Academy nights but this was the first time we'd gone along to the newly named Coldrice Underground (it's actually on the first floor but I guess Coldrice First Floor didn't sound so good). I'm waffling...it's the drink...anyway it has to be the most bizarre but endearing venue that I've ever been to. Imagine a party in someone's house - two small rooms where the bands play, a narrow corridor where people hang out and a bar that serves JD...all night long...JD...I think I may be sick...no...I'm ok...and you're just about there. Tonight there were a load of great bands. Sticking with my hangover driven minimal reviews...

Coptor - space addled rock n' soul monsters with a robot who run the whole Coldrice shebang and should be famous 'cos they're ace.

The Grease Monkeys - Glaswegian blues rockers with a mental male lead vocalist (v. entertaining and powerful female vocalist who plays a mean harmonica (it won't do the washing up or buy anyone a drink at the end of the night...boom boom - good grief now I'm Basil Brush...).

The Sugars - seriously brilliant band from Leeds with a deeply sexy lady and very cool gent who reminded me a bit of The White Stripes - only better (and I happen to love The White Stripes). Totally '50's they make the kind of music you imagine James Dean would've shagged Marilyn to.
The Dexateens - Deep south Gods of Leon, the real deal.

Dan Sartain - God I love this guy, from his pencil thin 'tache down his 5ft somthing frame to his little boots. Again a heavy '50's flavour with music that reminds me a little of the Them track Baby Please Don't Go . Walk Among the Cobras was a real highlight in a set sprinkled with them. The fact that - due to the intimate venue - I was standing literally 2ft away from him made it all slightly surreal, in a good way though. Buy his album please...THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE HEARD BY MORE PEOPLE!!!

Swampmeat - drummer from The Big Bang's side project. Surprisingly strong vocals, short set, but very promising.

The Big Bang - One of the many Birmingham bands poised to make it, The Big Bang are loud, trashy and pack enough swagger to see them make the front cover of NME (before it finally turns up its toes like every other music paper has). I've seen them loads of times before and they just get better and better. If Joe Strummer were alive, and in a band, it would be The Big Bang.

So, several JD's later, we stumbled out into the early hours of Sunday morning and back to reality. But, for a few hours, life was just one big house party. Viva Coldrice.

Vincent Vincent and The Villains / Hafdis Huld / Second Son Rising Jug Of Ale 16th October 2006

The Baron has a hangover...nothing to do with this gig...blame the good people of Coldrice...hell YEAH! So let's keep this short and sweet. I will adopt a technique used by the venerable Mr H, here goes:

Hafdis Huld - Icelandic pop queen in waiting, vocals as sweet as sugar, lyrics as dark as a dark room is to a blind man. Majestic. Listen to Ski Jumper and you'll fall in love.



Second Son Rising (can't find a link or any mention of them anywhere...now that's rock n'roll) - Brummie rock/metal group who rocked as rockingly as Ozzie on a rocking horse.

Vincent Villain and the Villains - 50's tinged rock-pop-abilly who's just signed to EMI. Oodles of energy, bags of cool and lashings of 'winkle pickers'. Stonkingly good.

There. Short and sweet!

Everybody else is doing it...

At the risk of being the untrendiest old bastard in the world (since when has that stopped me eh?), here is a video...from You Tube...of The Horrors...oh how last season...

the horrors - sheena is a parasite

A PTV3 Picture...at last!

For some strange reason this wonderful blogger thingy wouldn't let me post any pictures from the amazing PTV3 gig...until now! Here is a picture - singular - as it doesn't like me posting more than one. Maybe I've gone over my limit...not for the first time.

It's black and white too, classy eh? (the picture...not my limit)

PTV3 / Pram / The Courtesy Group Birmingham Barfly Friday 6th October 2006

No new update for two weeks...aaaagghhh...naughty Baron, where does the time go? Well I have man flu, the ongoing demolition of Baron Towers and other nonesense to blame. So there. Anway, I am going to take you on a journey. A journey that goes back to the mid 80's. A time before t'net. A time when exploring the vast musical landscape meant getting off your arse and trapsing round record shops or fairs and punting your hard earned cash on stuff you'd never heard before. It was a simpler time (cue violins and sepia tinted film) when you'd use one band's influences and collaborations to give you a new band to explore. Thus, via a thing for all things Marc Almond, I entered the world of a certain Mr Genesis P.Orridge. The more I got to know about him the more splendid he became. I won't attempt to try to do him justice here, but there's a good write up on him on Wikipedia. Suffice to say that, amongst many other highlights, he has been a respected artist, invented Industrial music, studied undr William Burroughs, played a leading role in Acid House music, started a cult (of sorts) and been hounded out of the UK by a media witchhunt lead by Channel 4. As I say, a splendid character. Back in my dim and distant student days I nearly saw him (and Psychic TV) live, but as none of my fellow students felt like going to see someone who decided to name himself after a type of breakfast cereal, I didn't go. Then he fled the country and has remained an infrequent visitor to the UK ever since (even though the accusations of satanism that forced him to leave in the '90's were long since dropped).

His latest art project is himself and his good lady wife, Lady Jaye. The idea is that he wants to look like her...and vice versa. It's a pandrogeny thing. He already has the boobs, lips, hair and eyes. Now this may freak most people out. Big time. Personally I think it's utterly fantastic. As indeed was this whole evening.

Openers The Courtesy Group (from dear old Brum) have the whole shouty man thing that make The Fall so charming down to a fine art. They also have a wonderful Chinese guitarist, Hidehiko, who's musical ability acts as a wonderful counterpoint to the often slightly shambolic vocal delivery - this is all good. Lead singerAl Hutchins is also a poet and the whole set was interspersed with ramblings about the number 11 bus and the like. Brilliant, unique and set to get even better.

Pram were up next. According to Mike from Swordfish (Birmingham's number one record emporium) they've been around for about 20 years. And he knows his music. They reminded me a little of Stereolab and Broadcast, but with a bit more wibbliness...and a theramin. As I've said before, every band needs a...yes you know because you've been paying attention haven't you? Cool. With a capital C. And L.

Okay, as you can imagine from the start of this review I was sort of looking forward to the next band. In fact I had waited 20 years for this. They were due to play last year at the Summersonic festival in Birmingham but there was a bomb scare...a bomb scare I tell you...I was not a happy puppy. As with anything that you look forward to, I was also a little apprehensive. Would it be any good? Would Mrs Baron run out screaming in terror? Would the rest of the audience turn out to be devil worshipping nut jobs? Stay tuned when the review that time forget returns after a short break...

...that's better. It builds the tension doesn't it? PTV 3 came on like a band with business to do. That's always a good sign. Then Mr P.Orridge entered, stage left. A vision in camo tights, black bra and nice little jacket. Opener Black Cat featured much meeowing and was, dare I say it catchy. As was 90% of the rest of the 1 hour 30 minutes set. Genesis was using a kind of theramin ring sort of thing, with which he 'played' the audience. The closer it gets to you or any 'hard' object the higher the pitch. The acid test? Even Mrs B jigged about a bit. Now that's praise indeed. Granted the music and lyrics aren't likely to get your average James Blunt fan moist, but then that's the point. This is music and performance for people who like to be challenged a little as well as entertained. The gig finished and Mrs B went off to powder her nose. I, harbouring a secret desire to meet Mr P. O, loitered around the dressing room door looking shifty. I'd met the bass player Alice and stood next to the lovely Mrs P.O, but had kind of given up when Markus, the keyboard player spotted me, had a quick chat and invited me into the inner sanctum. So, in we went, opening the door to come face to face with Gen him/herself. Surreal. They say you should never meet your heroes / heroines, but it's never been anything but a pleasure for me. Gen was charming. Despite being pestered by a sweet but slightly drunk character who had met Gen the night before, got him/her to sign his chest and had the signature tattooed on the following day - I kid you not dear reader - he was a delight and chatted to us for a good 10 minutes or so. Highlights? Admitting that his/her gold teeth had cost $30,000, confiding that, since the boob job, more women had hit on him than ever before because he was 'exotic' and bashing his boobs against Mrs B's (they're quite bouncy she says). He came across like a dear old Aunt, or a mixture of Quentin Crisp, John Lydon and Kenneth Williams...just super company.

He is a national treasure and should be Knighted / Damed as soon as possible. Arise Sir / Dame Genesis Breyer P. Orridge that's what I say. Thanks to Gen and the crew for making us feel so welcome and giving us a damn fine evening. There, that's a review and a half. I'm going for a lie down now.