Deadpunk Special (Brent fest)
THE EXCHANGE/ THE STAG AND HOUNDS - BRISTOL UK.
There are increasingly less things I won't do for a few quid, and “working” at this years Deadpunk Special has been the most pleasant in a while. I say “working” because the only thing that really differentiated my experience from plain attending, was that I managed to hold off drinking until past 7pm, which I think is pretty impressive for an all dayer. Organised by the reputably grumpy but secretly loved by many* Dave Cambell(-but-will-always-be-Brent), Deadpunk Special brings together bands that play for Deadpunk Promotions throughout the year, and friends from all over, for a right good West Country cider-fuelled knees up.
The first act I managed to catch was Daniel Vs the World, defined as queer anti-folk piano pop punk, but really a one-man/ one-aggressive-homosexual musical, accompanied by talented band hoppers Laura Coles and Jaca Freer. This was a stripped back version of their full band, with Laura moving from drums onto banjo plus harmonies, and Jaca on percussion, including a curious jangly key.. thing. Apparently there have already been murmurings of a Daniel-based DIY musical (Hi, this is me putting myself forward as a backing dancer!), which I interpret as a testament to both the quality of Daniel's song-writing, and his unwavering charisma: he literally glitters. There's something Regina Spektor about his expressive piano playing, accenting story-telling vocals that are punctuated with dramatic pauses. My favourite song will always be Love Your Rage, both for its sentiment, and the way it transports me into some Chicago-esque dance routine with a lot of bending forward and swing-clicking. Seriously, someone get this guy a bigger stage and a dance troop.
I only caught a bit of Jesus and his Judgemental Father downstairs in the Stag and Hounds. This is the problem seeing so many excellent people in one place (plus working extremely hard*). The room was packed out with people singing along, and I'm sad I missed out. I did manage to hear most of the anthemic title track of their debut album, Kings and Queens, from my post at the door, and sang along under my breath whilst watching the outside world pass by. The streets are filled with the gender police.. Our music community is a more necessary sanctuary for some than others, and its important that this voice is becoming more prevalent within it.
Half a plastic pint glass of tea later and I got down the front for Shit Present. I'm not normally that fussed about the poppy gruff punk (/ kind of hazy) scene they fall into. However, there's something really compelling about this band, especially Iona who I always felt gave a hell of a lot of weight to her other excellent band, Great Cynics. Maybe its the subtle grit to her vocals, or the way her lyrics play with the sub-genre's usual cliche's about getting high and hanging out, pushing gently past them, to honest reflections on more painful experiences; maybe its that I identify so hard with parts of it that I wish the band had formed earlier to guide me through more of my early twenties. I should be old enough by now// This is the last time I'm putting myself down. I'd not seen them live in ages, and it seems their self-depreciation, a quality that normally gets right on my tits, has become a form of defiance. It's obvious from the name – maybe I just didn't get it before. Either way, the delivery was loads more confident: Shit Present got presence.
I rudely ran off mid-conversation with someone because I realised I was missing Dear Everyone's set upstairs. My only issue with this band, is it means that Kelly Kemp, El Morgan and Helen Chambers, all incredible artists in their own right, get squidged into half an hour, and I feel cheated of what should be a full hour and a half of life wisdom and sweet sweet harms. I ran in just in time to hear 'Caravan', one of Helen's, and teared up. That song played a massive part in provoking me to sack off everything that was making me unhappy, and go wandering with my rucksack (a physical caravan being a little over budget for the time being.) This is one of the things I love so much about DIY music communities; personally knowing the people who write the soundtrack to your questionable life decisions. We'll drink to health and happiness and live life while we can.
As I was taking my new found employment extremely seriously, I watched Doe from the back with one eye on them and the other militantly on everyone's wrists. Is grunge-pop a thing? I think this is grunge-pop. One of London's hardest working bands, I can't keep up with their stream of short DIY releases, but was relieved to find that Specialist Subject records put out 'First Four', combining previous EP's into one meaty (fake-meaty, sorry punx!) full length a couple of years ago. Deadpunk fell as part of the Specialist Subject tour, also featuring Shit Present, Personal Best and Caves alongside Doe – one hell of a line up that demonstrates just how strong Specialist Subject are as an independent label. Nicola and Jake's vocals blend so satisfyingly, giving a feeling of acceleration, or going really high on a swing, as they hit the long high notes and the dual guitars provide equal grunge fuzz and hooks. They also covered Spice Girls '2 become 1'– it was better than the original – long live punk covers of classic pop.
Upstairs again, this time for Chrissy-effin'-B. Everyone was sitting on the floor and I feel like this was something to do with Chrissy's earlier expressed discomfort at the considerable slope to the warped wooden floor of the old pub. Chrissy Barnacle is a strange creature; one that equates romance with tales of cannibal rats on sinking ships and the aphrodisiac effects of hazelnuts. On record she's incredible, but it doesn't give the full story, because live its all about the stories; with some sets comprising more of confessional poetic monologue than songs. She'd make a killing on audio-books. Her elaborate explanations set the scene for lyrically rich, narrative-based songs, delivered with her eerie, piercing voice that would not forgive a bum note, if one ever came. The guitar parts are as complex as her stories and her fast paced finger picking is intricate, skippy and light.
I had an unfair decision to make between Astpai and Joe Tilston. Having watched Astpai covering Teagan and Sara for the warm up show the night before (and given them breakfast, to be fair), I felt like my band-sibling treachery would be forgiven and opted for Tilston, making a deal with my wristband-enforcing colleague Matt to watch half the set each. I'll forgive Matt for going well over his allocated fifteen minutes: Tilston is a captivating musician. I was disappointed by the lack of Luke Yates - violinist, sound engineer and all round musical extraordinaire - but enjoyed the addition of Keith on harmonica. The folky songs certainly lend themselves to accompaniment. I time travelled back a good four years** during the last song 'Liza and Henry', built on the nursery rhyme about holey buckets and evoking all kinds of questions about relationships, reliance and purpose. Joe's been quiet for a while, but clearly still reflecting, still writing, and it was great to see him back doing what he's meant to be.
I ended up watching Personal Best through the window. Nobody got through the door I was at, not because of my supreme attentiveness, but because it was so rammed that it was not physically possible. Personal Best now also feature El Morgan on guitar and vocals, multiplying their sweet harms potential by the thousands, as well as the Huss, formerly of Attack Vipers on bass, and band hopper Jay on drums. Fronted by Katie Gatt, its like some kind of super band. They’re going far and we're going to be singing these anthems for years. I didn't get the greatest sound quality experience through a window right next to the bass amp, but I got the jist, and it was a flippin fabulous jist. I'm sure passers-by would have enjoyed the band, plus Jen of Colour Me Wednesday's, rendition of 'This Is What We Look Like' much more, but I hope they appreciated and didn't misinterpret my own wailing: I WANT TO KISS YOU IN THE STREEEEET WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEEEEE! Such. Queer. Anthem.
Jenn-misogynist-crushing-LaDiy-Bristol-crew-feminist-poet-and-now-bass-playing-wonder-Hart handed me a beer just as Caves began. On a side note, the 'Jen not men' graffiti on the back of the door in the toilets caused much joy for both Jen(n)s Hart and Colour Me Wednesday – strong effort. I, like everyone else watching, had waited too long to see Caves again, and developed an arguably unfair resentment towards America for taking Lou, and to some extent Minty, from us. I DON'T CARE I DON'T CARE GO FUCK YOURSELF kicked in ecstatically through the feedback and most of my beer went skyward in the direction of my fist. Everyone's yearly woaaahing quota was filled. Everyone's Caves fix was met. They've lost no momentum in their absence.
Wristband-enforcement was abandoned for the last band downstairs in the Stag and Hounds. Greece's finest, Despite Everything, are touring undeniably catchy new material as well as their 2013 album The Dawn Chorus. Apparently this is what Radiohead are naming their upcoming release, but there'll be no confusion there: this is urgent melodic hardcore not whatever the hell Radiohead describe themselves as these days. Despite are as tight as ever; meticulous band practices and relentless touring clearly evident. I'd not seen them play in over 18 months and it was great to sing along to the album songs amongst the newer material, though they totally wussed out of playing the “little weeners” version of Inbetweeners, much as I and members of Astpai tried to remind them, loudly. Well loved across mainland Europe, I think Despite deserve more attention in the UK and hopefully their current tour will achieve that.
As my vital task had been on the doors at The Stag and Hounds, I only ventured round into The Exchange for Arteries, and had naively assumed that as punk all dayers always run to time, I'd be able to see the full set after Despite. I wandered into the packed room as they kicked into the last song – so gutted. Without getting too hippy about it, you could tell from the energy in the room that this reunion had not disappointed, and why there were loads of mad proud welsh people everywhere.
My night drew to a remarkably civilised end, catching up with old friends, and flyering with the Austeros guys. What began as a flyering contest, initiated by me, ended much more cooperatively as they suggested swapping flyers; which is genius, because shouting your own band’s name at people is pretty embarrassing. Its clear from the way the gender balance shifted man-ward as the night went on that our community still has some way to go before the gender binary explodes and shit gets truly equal. But I can feel a queering (kind of like The Quickening in that film about immortal warriors with the Queen soundtrack, except this time it’s not about “only one!”) and this, to me at least, is a seriously welcome shift.
*Hi Dave, please give me more paid work..
**Still not as many years as the age gap between me and Tilston, which is precisely seven years and an endless source of joy to me.
http://danielversustheworld.bandcamp.com/
http://jesusandhisjudgementalfather.bandcamp.com/
https://specialistsubject.bandcamp.com/album/shit-present
https://specialistsubject.bandcamp.com/album/i-feel-weird
https://kellykemp.bandcamp.com/
https://elmorgan.bandcamp.com/
https://specialistsubject.bandcamp.com/album/penny-arcade
https://specialistsubject.bandcamp.com/album/first-four
http://specialistsubject.bandcamp.com/
http://chrissybarnacle.bandcamp.com/
https://astpai.bandcamp.com/
http://joetilston.bandcamp.com/
http://personalbest.bandcamp.com/
https://jennhart.bandcamp.com/
http://despiteeverything.bandcamp.com/
http://arteries.bandcamp.com/
https://austeros.bandcamp.com/
