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Live Review Joyzine By Paul Madden Ah Catch 22 - the memories come flooding back. This was where I first cut my djing teeth, fading amateurishly between The Rodgers Sisters and Urusei Yatsura b-sides at nights run by the Twinstar Revolution (not much has changed then). That was the past though, as tonight's festivities - the last of a series of regular free gigs at Catch organised by Akira and Smalltown America Records. No djs tonight though, just 4 obtuse post rock bands, and a burble of chatter inbetween, and I must say it's rather refreshing to be able to talk with ones acquaintances without having to holler over the top of The Killers being blasted at conversation murdering volume. However, as pleasant at the inter band nattering may be, it's the intervening music that I'm here to ramble on about, and first onstage tonight are Welsh screamo merchants Ipsofacto, who do the quiet/loud/really fucking loud thing as popularised by Biffy & co. Can't say it's my favourite thing in the whole wide world, and there do seem to be rather a lot of bands shouting angstily amongst heavy riffage at the moment. Still, I suppose it's preferable to the nu-metal hordes that preceded them, and if you are a fan of such things, Ipsofacto do it better than most I've heard. Unusually, it's the quiet bits that get me with Ipsofacto, they can be rather engaging, and there are some beautiful 3 part vocal harmonies thrown in for good measure, which is always a plus, however as soon as they stamp down on the distortion pedals and start thrashing about on their guitars shouting in the horrible scratchy throated way these bands do (you know, the one where they sound like they've been gargling razorblades for a week), my mind switches off and starts contemplating other things. One such thing is next band Akira. I really wanted to like their set today - they'd sent in a great demo a few months back, and I've been swapping e-mails with Joel from the band ever since. I like people who are enthusiastic about the music they make, as well as the music around them (that studied cool thing really irks me - why should I be excited about a band if their music doesn't excite them?) and Joel is amongst the most enthusiastic I've met - more so than ever today with a mixture of nerves and alcohol inside him. I've promised to go and see them more times than I care to remember, but circumstances have always got in the way, so it's important for me on some semi-conscious level of inner-decency that tonight goes well, and I can write a positive review to make up for the times I've missed. Fortunately for me and my manufactured sense of loyalty, Akira's live show turns out to be a very curious thing indeed. There are so many ideas going on and pulling the songs in different directions that at times it's hard to fully grasp one before it twists and mutates into something new and wholly unrecognisable. It lends the band a sense of unpredictability that keeps you on your toes (or in my case, toe - I broke mine playing tennis last week, which makes clambering around the front of the stage to take photos a rather more uncomfortable experience than usual. On the plus side I do get to carry a cane, which looks quite cool). As you might imagine, this sense of wanton experimentalism doesn't always bear fruit, and there are points where songs descend into noise, but fortunately these are fairly short lived, and it's not long before they get back on track and the beginnings of another mutant rock gem starts to rise from the quagmire. In a word, interesting - Akira are steering clear of predetermined templates and going in their own direction, and it will be fascinating to see where it takes them. The same could also be said of Twentysixfeet, however their mash up of post-rock and glitchy electro squiggles fails to ignite the imagination in the same way, and at times it's hard to tell whether they're playing a song or tuning up for the next one. Every now and then theres a glimpse of a tune, but this only makes it more frustrating when they inevitably break it back down into a gloopy sludge of noise. Tonight's headliners Projections used to be part of the defunct post-rock heroes Cat on Form, and the early signs tonight are promising, with angular rock outs a plenty, and a frontman not afraid to risk life and limb thrashing around Catch's tiny stage for our enjoyment. Sadly though, their set goes the way of their predecessors, descending into noise for noises sake, and eschewing all trace of tunefulness or danceablity. And with that, I say my goodbyes and hobble off to Old Street tube station, satisfied, but contemplating more what could have been, and what could still be if tonight's band can maintain their sense of exploration but temper it with some songs you can still dance to. [clicky]
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