First up The Deadlights. Post punksters with a slight Fall edge in places and a nice line in dual male vocals which worked really well (creating a Spector-esque wall of sound…oh yes). They had a few slower numbers but it’s the faster, heavier stuff that did it for me ‘The Fire Burns For Blood’ and ‘In Your Room’ in particular – Orange Juice meets Eagles of Death Metal.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Vivian Girls / Male Bonding / The Deadlights @ The Rainbow, Digbeth, Tuesday 19th May 2009
In the last six days I’ve seen 36 different bands. 36. I’m aware that’s this is probably nowhere near the world record (I wonder what is?), but it’s still an awful lot. The trouble with going to see so many bands (oh so many bands) is the same as if you do anything an awful lot (steady there…perverts). You get a little jaded. Great bands suddenly become good bands, good bands become average bands and average bands…well, let’s not go there. I only mention this because I’ve been thinking (oh dear…here he goes again) recently about just how many bands I’ve seen over the last (mumbles slightly) 20+ years or so. Surprisingly I had a few lean gig years at Uni, mainly because I was as poor as a church mouse who’d fallen on particularly hard times, but since graduating it’s been an non-stop orgy of bands, cider, sweat, the odd bruise or two and a growing ringing in my ears. The answer to my current gig overload is, of course, quite simple. Go on a diet. Cut it out pork boy. But then I just sit at home moping about and thinking that I’m missing some great gig…like THAT pistols show in Manchester when everyone who was there formed a band…or the time Jimi Hendrix first decided to set his geetar on fire or the Misty’s show when Erotic Volvo unveiled his new look (sighs wistfully). Ho hum. This isn’t going anywhere by the way (no change there then)…just thinking, that’s all. If only the human brain could be deleted and you could start all over again…as fresh as a daisy. Obviously you’d keep the boring files that enabled you to read, write and walk in a straight line. But you’d delete pretty much everything else, just for the pleasure of discovering stuff again for the very first time. Like a virgin, touched for the very first time. Eurgh. Write that line down and it looks really sick.
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