Gig Review by John Kennedy / Gig Photos by Ian Dunn


“Birmingham independent record label, One Beat Records and the city’s best music magazine, Brum Notes combine together to present 4 of the best local breakthrough bands all on one night.” So ran the billing for this near capacity-rammed gig and jolly well done because it was an eclectic line-up with a near seamless continuity. (Hell of a well-done job by the sound-man and swop-over crews, by the way.)

DUMB were sort of billed as the headliners though curfew time kept snapping at their heels to keep it a very brief set. No harm there – kept quality-control on its toes.


Ambitious, accomplished musicians sporting teen age quiffs all through the night – their barbed-wired vocals and strident, anthemic snappy swathes of guitars were rather appealing. There’s circumstantial evidence enough to suggest dabblings in Suede, Killers, Editors, Clash and even Pixies. It’s worthy of note that young, hungry Brummie bands seem to be catching the attention of the inkies down London way just recently.


Not convinced about the band’s name, though! (Nota Bene: In 1969 we thought Earth, changing their name to Black Sabbath, was a career train-wreck waiting to happen – little realising that Ozzie had already by-passed the dead-man’s handle!).

You want to like THE SCRIBERS, you really do.


All that ludicrously effervescent belief in their youthful invulnerability and energetic rage against/within the Ska machine. Their epileptic tempo-shifts and manic key changes were most entertaining alongside the megaphonic anger vocals. Think Young Knives/Clash and a not inconsiderable wollop-dollop of Arctic Monkeys. Mind you, stand-out song ‘Queen Of Hearts’ well, stood out. Cocky buggers, one and all. What better recommendation?


WIDE EYED‘s psychedelic space-rock mind-warp journey to the Third Moon of Golapthian was a Pink Faries/Hawkwind/Sigur Rós glacial cool de profundus, acid-soaked galactic groove/Silver Machine Freak-Out trip. Simple as that!


The most astonishing thing about YOUTH MAN‘s pissed-off, head-butting bull at the gates of Mordor, angst/axe-woman, singer waif, Kaila Whyte, is that she was allowed in the venue at all.


Petite, with a sort of Kalashnikov carrying Artful Dodger charm, is this really what sugar & vice does to young girls these days? And, what a manic racket they kicked-up.


Frenzied, splashing acid-baths of chaotic thrash nails their teenage rage pheromonia firmly to the mast. Let’s be thinking The Deviants, Fugs, Magic Band, Pixies and Amon Duul. Some will have their muse is dictated by iconoclastic nihilism wrapped-up in visceral deconstructionism: they may have a point. This was a storm-crashed, rudderless leper-ship spewing toxic angst-trailer-trash thrash specifically contrived to piss-off The Daily Mail reader shit-hordes. All so reassuring in these confusing times. Mispent youth well invested. Ought go down well in North Korea – instead of missiles…

Leave a Reply