To begin the night, I have the wonder of entering the gallery to find a Lightning Bolt style set up - loudspeakers placed at corners of the room, centre amps and a drumkit in the centre on top of a rug. Out arrives the drummer with pantyhose on his face, a morphsuit Bez dancing around the action, and our frustrated guitarist wearing a Darth Maul mask. Whatever little lyrics they have are boomed out - presumably a technical fault - but very amiable when in league with their Big Black noise-rock bombast. Darth Maul has no lack of confidence in his ability nor his passion to literally run up and jump off the walls of the room. The drummer and Maul are both dressed up in Asda butcher's workgear - uniformly white coat and trousers except for one cheeky green logo above the breast-coat pocket - making for a weirdly intimidating presence. It's amazing the effect the pantyhose has on the drummer's expression - making the intense strains of his arms flailing against the percussion all the more threatening by his faceless facade. The drummer is no stranger to hammering the rims of his drums either - and its effect is warmly received. The third last track provides the one little moment where the guitarist decides to calm down, perhaps to concentrate on the dexterity ahead (or maybe to catch his breath from his writhing moments before). The song is a crowd-rock dream, stunting the predicted climaxes with sudden collapses, and a seemingly never-ending couplet of guitar strums repeated for the major part of the track. During a gap between songs, he tells one audience member whose phone is ringing to bluntly "shut up". Gladly, we take it the right way. Coco Bryce's behaviour largely contrast the usual punter's band patter - the two have barely communicated at all with the exception of two abstractly worded sentences throughout. Their gig finishes with one unending wall of noise as the band stand triumphantly still and the crowd walk off - the synthesised loop going on for at least two minutes. A hugely entertaining live performance but all too brief. Speaking to the drummer afterwards, it gladly came as no surprise that he was aware of and a fan of acts like Steve Albini's Big Black and Rapeman, not to mention the afore-mentioned Lightning Bolt of course - obvious inspirators if one were to make that sort of judgement.
I would rather say that The Emmas have chosen a name that doesn't sum up their music so easily.. but they really have. Warm; summery; beaches; girls and picnics. The opening tune "Jungle Drum" begins with an attempt at a 'heartfelt' vocal, the drummer seeming a little nervous introducing the percussive section. The harmony vocal of the chorus is a highlight, It's just a shame that the beat is not as tight as it could be to make this starter a bit more heavenly as it does garner itself an unidentified sort of potential. Their tracks seem to want to squeeze out a lovely shower of colourful guitar melodies - the bass so obviously warm as to be maybe seen as patronising but in truth, it's very sweet. Their track "Sun, Cider and a Barbeque" (the announcement of the title generating a number of cheers) begins very much like the more motivational corners of, say, the Good Shoes discography, the track again shares a beachy feel ("we'll shoot the breeze... it's a brand new day"). The debuted track "Ships and Oceans" makes great use of pedals from the outset, bringing on connotations of the better moments of psychedelic chart pop - flimsy, easy, rock trying to be endearing, but this doesn't stay for long as the tempo speeds and slows from verse to chorus. This track is the first time we get to hear the back-up vocalist sing by himself and strangely so, his voice is nowhere near as obtrusive as the lead, instead gently (and dare I say sensually) adding to the group's sound.
Being a young batch, it's a delight when the dual vocal forces convincingly duet on some tracks; nowhere more-so than on their track "Young Fools" with its "we're still young" refrain magically sticking. However, rather unexpectedly, the guitarist initially appears to be attempting an odd muted guitar solo, but he suddenly stops, reveals a party popper and the band play off the last few bars. It's a tactic that sadly didn't work despite its apparent inspiration. As they close their set, and play their gradually trademarked "Seven Baldy Neds", the bab-bab-baloo lyrics fully enforce my opinion that this group are definitely attempting a certain style of bopping hedonism (all the more invoked by their gloriously pretty namesake). All the best to the Emmas, as they're definitely a focused group and their music-playing was flawless aside from our opening hiccup.
Sadly missing We Dont Mind the Weather's opener (apostrophe absent in the name), I got sucked into the second track almost instantly. A dirtier rock styling than the Emmas, the lead vocalist has a convulated barking style. All three guitarists waltzing around the stage, truly feeling the spirit of their own tracks (the sheer delight on the face of one of the guitarists I helped direct to the nearest off-licence earlier that day!). The kickdrum is put to great use supervising the coverage of their structural bridges, whilst the other three prance and stomp on their effects pedals. A lot more playful with their instruments during the intermissions, their bassist's guitar broke within a matter of minutes - it soon became a complete nusiance with the bass's continual death, stretching out the gaps between songs too long as they sorted out their equipment. In one particular song (I'm not totally aware if the intro was a jam or not), the drummer decided to open with a very motorik beat whilst the guitarists explored the stage, every so often one member offering some riffage here and there - before finally alligning together into one very articulated moment of their perfomance, this track then launching into an uptempo plectrum smash. It doesn't spring to my mind as the first kind of music I'd rush to listen to, but their performance was definitely refreshing. I think it's the happiness, and lack of confrontation from the crowd and their uplifting name that creates this aura of eagerness for delight in the crowd. Their percussive section is a banger - on the money rhythmically, and it's a solid strong skeleton for the music they propel. Not anything new I suppose, but their onstage presence is perhaps what seperates them from other young bands of this elk that I've seen countless times before. Where other bands like this might try to seem professional, the group act like a complete shambles and still keep it up. I'm glad to say at the end of the set the bassist dropped his bass on the floor in disgust like any old moody blue should.
Unfortunately I couldn't see all the bands on the evening due to commitments later that evening and the next day (names I missed included the Schemes, the Blue Lips, and Gee and Doc from Colour Cells showcasing an acoustic set). However, the launch of Issue 3 looks set to be a hot evening - held, as always, at Irvine's humble seaside HAC, on Saturday the 3rd July. With a free DVD and copy of the magazine with every ticket; and with a number of bands playing (including a single launch for Battle for Second Place), it should prove to be a night that reaffirms Ayrshire's rock & pop talent:
http://wreckedchordrecords.co.uk/
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