I'm Being Good
Remember Pugwall? The fresh faced young television teen from the early nineties with his band the Orange Organics? Well ever since Stringbean fucked Jenny the band have been on permanent hiatus with the members not talking. Eager to get back on stage, Pugwall has swapped his guitar for the bass and started a new band called Headquarters.
Coming from a completely different direction than the Orange Organics, Headquarters trade in rather sexy, unpredictable, mind boggling arrangements that veer from catchy shouting to all out free noise. However there seems to be something wrong with the purveyors of said racket tonight, they are plagued with technical problems from the out-set. From a rather floppy start which included breaking a bass string during the first tune and various cool but unintentional squelchy noises between songs that seem to surprise the band more than anyone, Headquarters display about as much energy as a watch battery tonight. I have previously seen them and had my arse thoroughly kicked but tonight they just donít seem to get going (apart from a spiffing Don Caballero-esque tune towards the end.)
Leon's garment tribute to the outfit worn by Sloth in The Goonies was a nice touch too. Donít let one shoddy performance put you off, these guys are usually frighteningly good, especially for their relative youth. But tonight as lovely as they are, they couldnít quite get it up.
Which leads me to Iím Being Good. I kept hearing about this lot: Fucking Iím Being Good this, fucking Iím Being Good that. And you know what? They were really good.
Swapping instruments amongst themselves almost every song kept things fresh, not that they needed much help with this. A quirky looking bunch of geeks, (one guitarist/drummer had his glasses strapped to his head!) They were very tight, even achieving the Holy Grail of live performance, all members simultaneously starting one song with a Ďno-countí. Very impressive. Some tunes brought the sound of early Die Haut to mind with their stop/start spastic riffs. They seemed to be playing through what looked like Hi-Fi amps too. Only a couple of negative things came up, the singers shy, quiet between song banter may be a hit with the chicks that like a sensitive man, but it doesnít wash with male audience members who like beer and fighting. Speak up dude. Use the PA or something! Oh and NEVER WEAR YOUR OWN BANDS T-SHIRT ON STAGE. This breaks one of the main rules of rock No matter how desperate things get laundry-wise, you are a ROCKER. Wear a dirty shirt that doesnít have Iím Being Good written on it. (Even if it was a fine design and lovely colours.) Minor niggles aside, Iím Being Good have at least one new fan, and I shall be downloading the on-line tracks the singer mumbled about during the show.
Part Chimp, Part Chimp, Part Chimp. I wanted to be impressed, I really, really did. After a monstrously heavy start that made me appreciate my earplugs like I never have before, things started to go to shit. They have lovely guitars and you have to respect the Ďeverything louder than everything elseí stance, but there seemed to be a word none of them have ever looked up in the dictionary: Dynamics. Donít get me wrong, I love heavy music, and I mean heavy, not like any of the shit they pretend is heavy in Kerrang, which seems to have become Smash Hits with tattoos and dyed black side partings. But Part Chimp had no light and shade. Iím sure this is probably the point (their mailing list was headed ĎHello Bastardsí, I think Part Chimp hate you!), and I like their records, but in reality: bludgeon, bludgeon, bludgeon can get quite tiresome live. They have a lot going for them, the volume made my teeth vibrate and, when standing at certain spots around the venue, my bell-end tingle. They also have the campest drummer this side of Corporation Blend. However, after half an hour of playing what appeared to be the same song five times or so I noticed myself yawning and wishing I was watching Fudge Tunnel instead. They didnít even play the mighty B1, a tune that always gets everyone dancing when my gang have a party (unless it was an encore, I fucked off as soon as it appeared to be the end, to get some air and rest my ears).
But anyway, at least they werenít Ska or Pop ĎPunkí. Itís just a shame there werenít more impressionable kids there to convert, as monotonous as it became, I would rather watch Part Chimp than Amen ANY fucking day of the week. I have no doubt that the Amen show will be sold out. Packed with kids who want to watch a rich man approaching his forties who draws bags under his eyes with eyeliner to make himself look more Ďfucked upí jumping around on stage pretending he really is a punk not just a trust fund cunt who lies about where his money come from. (pro-skater my cock.) It genuinely was a shame that more people werenít there for Part Chimp. At only £5 for a band whoís records are great and are more punk than the word Ďpinkí written by a dyslexic, hopefully next time they will mix it up a bit and get a bigger crowd.