Tag: the Vic

Tidy: Talk in Code at The Vic with Riviera Arcade and Flora Flora

It was only ever supposed to be a single launch gig but it could’ve been for a gold-crested gatefold triple LP, because Talk in Code were larging it last night at their hometown premier venue, Swindon’s Victoria. The crowd was ecstatic and the atmosphere was highly flammable…..strike a light!

If witnessing a great band on their own turf adds a communal elevation to the thrill of seeing them at all, Talk in Code certainly pulled out all the stops, even if the je-ne-sais quoi of these masters of indie-pop perform with sublime quality anywhere they happen to appear.

If this crossing the friend barrier themed quintessential grower, More Than Friends sits perfectly into their eighties vibe discography, we were leaked forthcoming singles might venture somewhere slightly different, but right here, now, at The Vic, Talk in Code was rewarded equal rapturous praise in throwing it out there as they were marching triumphantly through their beloved anthems.

Tunes which, like the best memorable pop, have universal and timeless appeal. At a Talk in Code gig you could mute the sound and still comprehend that the individual takes what they want from their style by observing the diversity of the demographic present. Here, this tight group of musicians evoke memories of everything gorgeous about eighties pop from Ah-Ha to Simple Minds, for me. One generation younger, especially when they backtracked to Oxygen, might wallow in nineties indie, and likewise youth will recognise their own contemporary influences.

If homeliness provides confidence to experiment, we were treated to something I’ve never seen Talk in Code do before; as the band Twix breaked, dynamic Adidas- sponsored frontman Chris Stevens proved he was no one trick pony, and blessed the Vic with an immaculate acoustic number, an original he called We Remain.

If appreciation was a pair of knickers, Talk in Code would have a visible panty line, as devotee “Talkers” in blue sunglasses and merch amassed between Vic regulars, equally relishing their vibrant, danceable and electric hoedown! And all took home a CD embossed goodie bag akin to a toddler’s birthday party, save a slice of squashed sponge cake!

Yet if there’s an honourable family-fashioned ambience surrounding this band, where Talkers would follow them to the four corners of the globe, else create Lego fan-videos or shower them with deserved fondness, the mood for a quality evening was pre-set by two awesome support acts TiC cherrypicked.

Gloucestershire soloist, songwriter and model Flora Flora opened the gig with acoustic splendour. New to me, I’m now keenly following her socials. Not because she took control of my phone from my intoxicated sausage fingers to ensure I did, though she did, but because I’ve since come to realise there’s subsequent levels to her talent than the perfection of her rocking performance last night!

An inspiring Gen Z Swifty wordsmith, crafting evocative songs praised and played by our hero James Threlfall on BBC Introducing. A new one drops on streaming platforms on 29th August but is available now on Bandcamp, Need to Say; it’s far more ethereal than Flora Flora’s edgier performance, and you’ll be foolish not to bookmark it as a favourite; fill your ankle-length boots.

Penultimate act, Bristol-Swindon longstanding five-piece rockers Riviera Arcade, I must confess, I preconceived to be a fair, hard rock band; they certainly came out like one. It only took near to the completion of the first song for me to come to complex reasoning why they’re punching well above that weight. Multi-layered precision with captivating guitar riffs set me contemplating subtle nods to eighties mod or punk, sometimes skanking, but still, it heralded heavier rock. They’ve a 2022 album Gone By Ten on stream, so you can hear what I’m waffling about.

An interesting and certainly unique style which, while I was thinking The Police or Costello, they finalised their set of beguiling originals with an apt and superbly delivered cover of The Stones’ Paint it Black, a perfect summary to their ethos. I returned home as a newfound fan, a bit wobbly on my feet and Notra-Dame bells ringing in my ears fan, but deffo a fan!

Talk in Code was officially on the best form I’ve ever had the pleasure to witness, but it was the combination of acts, venue and atmosphere which famed this fantastic night too; The Vic is renowned for doing so, historically. Owner Darren Simons assured me, though the venue is up for grabs, it’s only going to someone prepared to continue in his shoes, so this flagship to Wiltshire live music should thankfully continue to reign; dodge magic roundabouts and onwards to The Shuffle!

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Rooks; New Single From M3G

Chippenham folk singer-songwriter, M3G (because she likes a backward “E”) has a new single out tomorrow, Friday 19th December. Put your jingly bell cheesy tunes…

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Trouble at the Vic, Ant Trouble….

Something of a family reunion at Swindon’s Vic last night, then, if as Adam Ant chanted, we are the family, the dandy highwayman so sick of easy fashion was rekindled by the utter brilliance of Ant Trouble, and left me hanging on a debate of the true worth of the tribute act….

Putting a two-part question to both your good self and my own deliberations this morning, what do you want from a tribute act? To be entertained, sure, but this is no different from an originals or covers band.

Nostalgia obviously plays the highest percentage, the want for an act to replicate a bygone band you idolised, or still do. Which raises the second part of the question, is sounding like more important than looking like the act they’re attributing?

Likely it’s a combination of these, a delicate balance. Though whilst I’ve caught some amazing tribute acts, my top three being a Blondie one, a Slade one and a Bob Marley & The Wailers, I could nitpick an issue with them all. Welsh Adam and the Ants tribute Ant Trouble sold-out Swindon’s Vic last night; something I was bursting with anticipation to witness firsthand. I return a million miles or so away from any shred of disappointment; it was highly entertaining, finding it impossible to nitpick any similar issue. By order of the equation surely puts Ant Trouble top of my list.

For nostalgic value, too, it ticked all boxes. But to understand why takes a backstory. For Bob Marley, I’ve been a lifelong fan, but not until heady art college days did I idolise. Slade was a smidgen before my time. But Adam and the Ants was bang on my childhood, a band though I’d loved to have seen perform live, was too young for gigs, and by the age I would’ve been the time and notion was lost.

To scare his younger sibling, my brother would put on undoubtedly the most bizarre of my Dad’s 7″ records. It was called “Burundi Black,” a 1971 single, whereby French composer Michel Bernholc overdubbed crashing piano to a recording of chants and drumming by the Ingoma people of Burundi. It still scares the willies out me today, truth be told!!

Whatever the quarrel between Malcom McLaren and Stuart Goddard (Adam Ant,) McLaren stole many original band members of Adam and the Ants to form Bow Wow Wow, but left Stuart a compilation tape with Burundi Black on. Both bands were inspired to create this Burundi beat, so that when my brother came home with Kings of the Wild Frontier, though I’d reached the grand old age of eight and wasn’t scared of anything now, I was left intrigued if slightly concerned by the sound of this previous album, as it was 1981 and I was hooked on the pop sound of Stand & Deliver.

It taught me pop stars weren’t just dropped into chart positions from outer space, they had a history, and grew to love Kings of the Wild Frontier. If the punk movement despised Adam Ant for selling out, I was blissfully as unware as the connection to Burundi Black; it was none of my business. I just loved this band, without reasoning why, for away from the angered social commentary, the disparaged realism of the punk movement I was too young to comprehend, Adam and the Ants exploited the fantastical, the carefree, enthusing any influences they cared to, from military jackets to new romantic frilly shirts, of Bauhaus, pirates, native Americans to Dick Turpin, to create this miss-mash, playful hero of nobility, and I idolised him.

Though through time that notion was lost in the plethora of ever-changing genres of pop, his attraction in uniqueness copied if never replicated, only to be bought crashing back to me like a wallop in the face, in a glorious show of retrospective precision, that’s key to why it topped my list; Ant Trouble may be the best tribute I’ve bore witness to so far, but my nostalgia not wholly the reasoning.

As for the Blondie tribute, it was perfection, though this Edinburgh lass maintained a corny Californian accent even when chatting backstage! Ant Trouble humorously allowed themselves to break the illusion, on stage, joking with extenuating accents, “we’re not really Adam and the Ants, just some Welsh nutters!” This was the honesty which deflected the pretence with an otherwise glam and showy band, it announced this was replicated, a homage rather attempting to maintain the false illusion it was the real McCoy.

My final niggly with other tributes is the fault of Father Time. Many are impersonating from their own youth, usually making them only slightly younger than the act they’re attributing. This can make the illusion awkward, and lack the zest of youth. Whereas Ant Trouble are of the same age Adam and the Ants were at their peak, bursting with the same energy, and their almighty display of enthusiasm and vigour was the icing on the cake.

They really gave it a 110%, through their skill of replicating and general performance, to the final part of my deliberations, both looking and sounding akin. Their fulfilled repertoire covering the earlier punk era to the pop peak and beyond to Adam’s solo career, and enthusing the effect with costumes, props, quality notation to the kinesiology, plus audience participation and banter. These skilful musicians could’ve produced an electrifying show if they were a Perry Como tribute!

What remained punk of Adam and the Ants was the three-minute hero, thus allowing Ant Trouble to cram a staggering thirty-two plus songs into this unique set. From Car Trouble and others from the debut album Dirk Wears White Sox, through to practically covering the entire Kings of the Wild Frontier album, and onto the pop hits Prince Charming, Stand and Deliver, et al, to later solo singles like Apollo 9, Ant Trouble delivered them all along with Ant Rap, but not by standing, oh no, they used the stage as if acrobats! The bassist of particular enthusiasm, jumping or rolling on the floor, throwing his guitar in the air, and climbing atop the speaker. Frontman Mitchell Tennant (who’s surname coincidently contains the word ant!) was equal to this showmanship, and the whole band’s interaction was exceptional, breathing life back into the discography of the pop hero of a lost era.

And that is precisely what I believe everyone wants from a tribute act. You come away from this show exhilarated, within a euphoric bubble of retrospection, but I could flatter all day, like Morpheus said to Neo of the Matrix: Unfortunately, no one can be told how good Ant Trouble are, you have to see it for yourself!

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Large Unlicensed Music Event Alert!

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Winter Festival/Christmas/Whatever!

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Disenchanted Webb

Swindon’s one-man red-hot chilli pepper, Webb is about to blow your mind, speakers and pants off with his new EP Disenchanted; I’ve heard it, and live to tell the tale….

First impressions last, and I’m having one of those mornings. Perpetual drizzle, darker mornings conspicuously drawing nearer, and other trivial irritations which I can’t quite put my finger on, are building to a generally low-spirited mood. Tedious has the eighties pop mix I’m listening to become, even nostalgia cannot help me. I stop for a break, knowing I’ve got Ryan Webb’s new EP Disenchanted to review, which promises to mark the emergence of WEBB’s new, heavier direction. This is displayed by the forename being dropped, saving as Webb.

I consider playing the Lost Trades, for their folky calmness will do wonders for my wellbeing, and I suspect Disenchanted might have the opposite effect. Though I acknowledge it will be of high quality, Ryan’s sound has always been substantial, heavy rock or metal isn’t my bag, and I’m usually highly critical of it. Don’t do it, I deliberate, last thing they need is for me to be set to whinge mode. But I did anyway, and given all algorithms, I worried this could head south rather quickly.

The five track EP includes the previously released track “DON’T!”, which we reviewed in May last year. I didn’t headcount the tracks but noted, after a while, I’d heard the one playing before; it’s gone around on repeat unnoticed, I’ve been sucked in, and it surpassed my preconceptions by a country mile. Ha, turns out it did suit the mood after all, in fact, it fitted all too well, and is, essentially a magnificent piece of music.

Now, given all I’ve said, about heavy rock not being my cup of tea, and this is something rather special even to me, if you are partial to the heavier weight of rock, it’s got your name all over it.

So, now I’ve awarded my mind the task of figuring out why it works so well. And to do this is to honestly unravel why I maintain qualms about metal. Don’t get me wrong, after the hip hop boom in the eighties became somewhat tiresome, like many I looked towards the soft metal genre for solace; I was shot in the heart too, just like Bon Jovi, longed for crazy, crazy nights, and if Heart sang how can I get you alone one more time when all they had to do was ask me, I’d be content. And as student years rolled in, I lost myself in the classics. Noting if it was compulsory for every soft metal band to sound like Jimmy Page, which while this is no bad thing, the vocal trend over time seemed to metamorphize into a hackneyed caricature of the voice of Satan. My qualm begins here, you don’t know if Satan actually sounds like that, all coarse and demonic, he could have a camp voice for all you know!

There it is, the negativity, the hellish themes of death and destruction, and the long hair; I don’t want to bring my, or anyone else’s daughter to the slaughter, if you don’t mind. Even if it’s tongue-in-cheek, times when I want to push the extensive fringes of metallers from their foreheads so they might see the beauty in life, the positives. Nu-metal, I say, feels like a long stretch to the elements I favour, the frenzied driving passion of Zeppelin, of The Ace of Spades, even Black Sabbath’s Paranoid I’ll give you.

And here’s where Disenchanted fits; contemporary with nods to the classics, the vocals more on Page than Beelzebub, and Webb can hold a note like a tenor, while sublime drums roll over it blissfully. This fits because it’s precisely the opposite of mindless headbanging for headbanging sake, it’s composed and constructed with clarity and a truckload of talent.

The reason the EP rolled on unnoticed is because it captures all that is positive, all the elements I appreciate of the genre. Webb says, “I’m really excited about Disenchanted. It’s an EP that I am really proud of, and I feel that now I have found the right direction for my music,” and proud he should be, for in technical jargon, Disenchanted can be summed as oomph; here, have a bit of that.

It amplifies a quote from my review of the single, “a one-man red-hot chilli pepper.” Ryan wrote, produced, sang, wailed his guitar, recorded and mixed this track in his studio. The only collaborators being Dave Collins on Don’t, the mastering engineer for Metallica’s last album, and Pete Maher who mastered the whole EP; he’s mastered the Rolling Stones and the Killers to name but a few.

Within seven seconds it pounds, the stunning lead single Concrete Beds; oh, those rolling drums, proficient howling guitars and Webb’s mighty soulful vocals; it rocks. Disenchanted demonstrates the multi-instrumental talent that makes him unique.

There’s acute narrative to boot, Concrete Beds aptly homelessness themed, I’m Standing Here erotically scorching, the third track though, Secrets is a haunting ambient caution to bottling up, and debatably the most poignant on the EP. When Darkness Falls lifts the tempo once more, and is heavy, but I’m still engrossed, then the finale, Don’t rips you a new arsehole, the riff beguiling, the considerable power and passion launched into this is exceptional.

The test of good “driving” rock is just that, your foot’s tension on the accelerator is judge and jury, and Disenchanted will have your pedal to the metal. It’s unleashed to the world next Saturday, the 14th August, and tickets are now available for the launch show at The Vic, Swindon.

CD pre-orders are available directly from WEBB’s online store: https://www.webbofficial.com/product/disenchanted-pre-order

You can also pre-save/pre-add to your favourite music platform https://ditto.fm/disenchanted

I suggest you do, then hold on tight to the nearest thing nailed down.

Salem Announce National Tour with Sheer Hosting Swindon’s Vic Gig

There’s something indefinitely old school punk about Salem, with nods to pop-punk, goth and rockabilly, hoisting them to the absolute top of their scene. No one in the UK are delivering this genre better right now.

This side project of Will Gould from Creepers and Matt Reynolds of Howards Alias is loud, proud and spitting; dripping with Siouxsie and the Banshees, laddered fishnet stockings and Robert Smith influences. Quite honestly, Kieran’s right, again; it’s knocking deafeningly at my front door!

They described their self-titled debut 2020 EP as “spooky, silly, romantic punk rock songs.” Yeah, figures.

Today they announce their October UK tour, with Oxford’s Bullingdon, Frome’s Cheese & Grain, and Bristol’s Exchange included, and nestled between them, on October 16th, Sheer Music & Bandit present them at Swindon’s grandstand music venue, The Victoria.

Support for the Salem’s tour comes from a new solo project from Welsh former Holding Absence bassist, James Joseph; James and the Cold Gun. A playful twist on his name, James and the Cold Gun is named after a Kath Bush song. They promise to be something of a rock n’ roll blues revue, akin to former British rock n’ roll heroes The Computers. They signed to Gallows label Venn Records for the release of their debut album.

Tickets go on sale Thursday (6th May.) £10 adv. / £13 OTD for the Vic.

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Chatting With Burn The Midnight Oil

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Daydream Runaways and their Crazy Stupid Love

There’s no fooling me, no quixotic baseball-wielding delinquent is going to sway me in giving my honest opinion on Daydream Runaway’s forthcoming single; it’s just a drawing, guys!

It might well be coming a cliché on Devizine, that Daydream Runaways send me over their latest single, tell me they think it’s their best yet, I agree and tell you it’s their best single yet. But I’m at a stalemate, because I’m likely to say once again, the new single from Daydream Runaways is their best yet, for the simple reason, the new single from Daydream Runaways is their best yet!

Ah, sure sign of natural progression from a young band always striving to improve, Crazy Stupid Love is out on Friday 2nd October on streaming platforms and it will be the first single from their upcoming EP. Given this strength of this song, and inclining it’ll have a running narrative, I’m highly anticipating the EP, with bells on. Meanwhile I have to concoct some words on why I think it’s their best single yet, rather than just repeating the same sentence. Well, technically I don’t have to, but I will because I want to.

Image by Van

I wouldn’t have to if you could hear what I’m hearing, that’s the fluky bit about doing this. While it’s not always this seamless; I occasionally receive tunes which make me shudder, though delight when these guys message me as I can guarantee it’ll be a non-shudder experience.

So, if I called their second single Fairy Tale Scene, “catchy melody, pop-tastically, with slight eighties, pre-indie label overtones,” Closing the Line as “a progressive step into local topical subject matter. An emotive and illustrative indie rock track akin to Springsteen’s woes of factories shutting,” and I said Gravity, “pushes firmer towards a heavy rock division,” then Crazy Stupid Love is the counterbalance, calibrating the best elements of their previous singles and weighing them equally. In this feat, it defines a forming style, a signature, I reckon, in which to base future releases.

Image by Van

Inspired by characters in a hit Hollywood film of the same name, which I’ve not seen, the guys claim “the song is set to be the sound of a Post-Lockdown world.” I hope so, but it fondly reminds me of a time of yore, pre-nineties indie and Britpop, back to the days of Simple Minds and U2; no bad thing. For, just like the moment Judd Nelson sticks Molly Ringwald’s earing in his lughole, these bands were beguiling, memorable and emotive. Crazy Stupid Love is like them, infectiously uplifting, and with a coming-of-age narrative, articulating moods of a youthful, verboten romance, it suits.

Surprisingly dicey too, it also creates a mysterious character within the narrative, namely Chad, intended to market the single with a hashtag #whoischad. We can’t see his mug on the cover, but the likelihood it’s Brad’s alter-ego, just because he rhymes with Chad and he’s wearing the same baseball jacket in the accompanying photoshoot is slight. With a penchant for fireworks he carries a baseball bat to a fairground, and anyone who does such is surely asking for trouble. But, I dunno, Brad just doesn’t seem the type!

Image by Van

This self-produced nostalgic nugget has those swirling harmonies, chiming guitars and an infectious chorus hook, to compare it to those eighties greats. But akin to what Talk in Code are putting out, it retains the modernism and freshness, acting as a nod to influences rather than a tribute.

In mentioning this to the Talkers they hadn’t heard of Daydream Runaways, but now I’m pleased to hear they’re supporting Talk in Code for an exclusive gig at Swindon’s Vic in November. Did I connect this, guys? Because if so, it makes me proud, sound wise I believe it’s a perfect match. Though BBC Wiltshire’s Sue Davis also has taken a big shining to the Runaways, asking them back on the 3rd October. Just, you dark horse, you, leave the baseball bat at home, Brad, I mean Chad. In my experience the Beeb pay for your parking if you ask, so no need to get nasty. Tut, always the quiet ones!

Super single, guys and look forward to catching up with you soon.