SATURDAY
SUNDAY
.................................THE 88
CREATIVE DESIGN STUDIO’S
desks available June 2015
265 pound per month inclusive
of all facilities get in touch to recieve
an information pack or arrange a viewing
the 88
at Constellations
0151 345 6889
[email protected]
the88liverpool.tumblr.com
35-39 Greenland Street
Liverpool
L1 0BS
Distorted two-pieces haven’t been found
wanting at this year’s Sound City, and
Glasgow’s HONEYBLOOD aim for something
a little more cutting on their early showing
at The Baltic Stage. On Super Rat, vocalist/
guitarist Stina Tweeddale pulls no punches
as she repeatedly spits “I will hate you
forever,” into the crowd. The energy the duo
elicit is just as warming, most notably on
Killer Bangs, as Tweeddale and drummer
Cat Myers launch themselves into the sort
of garage/indie rock which rings in your
ears for days.
The crowds are gradually pulled in by the
Atlantic Stage by JANE WEAVER’s dreamy
brew, and they’re treated to an exemplary
set: driving, poppy guitar riffs, and bubbling,
spacey synths are layered over a seductive
rhythm section, providing a danceable wall
of sound over which Weaver’s silvery voice
floats.
Ragged, rough around the edges and just
a little bit dirty. This is the current state of
our fingernails, as observed during many
lapses of attention during CYMBALS EAT
GUITARS’ set. The New York band have been
around for eight years now, but their take on
indie rock predates even then – the bands
they most recall are those of the first wave
of ‘emo’ music; Jimmy Eat World, Sunny Day
Real Estate. They throw themselves into it
passionately, but ultimately it’s a genre-fanonly affair as the songs simply aren’t there.
Now half a dozen LPs into their career,
West Yorkshire troubadours THE CRIBS have
more than proved their staying power. The
Brothers Jarman have continued regardless
of fashions or micro-scenes, accruing
something of a cult audience along the
way. Sensibly opting for a heads down, nononsense boogie approach to proceedings
here, the trio hone in on a clutch of tracks
that comprise the best bits of this year’s
acclaimed For All My Sisters LP, alongside
a full appraisal of their eleven-year back
catalogue thus far.
Somehow looking almost exactly the
same as he did when Supergrass first
surfaced over twenty years ago (albeit minus
his famous sideburns), GAZ COOMBES must
have a portrait in his attic that has aged
terribly. The lack of Supergrass’ stoned,
slightly berserk energy is missed a tad,