Cutting Words

I'm in a better mood today, even if I still feel a bit crappy. Who cares if not many people read the site? I still get a lot of hits from returning viewers, so consider yourselves in a select club. Anyway, to reward you here's some more shite from the old BBC days. One of my very first reviews, my 3rd I think. And yes, Oxfordbands used to promote, and now don't but do print my reviews. Very insular and confusing, I'll admit. The Rock Of Travolta were a very popular local post-rock type act that I never cared for. Also, the mention of Nightshift predates my writing for it, if you care to follow along and add this review to your free wallchart at home.

THE YOUNG KNIVES/ INTENTIONS OF AN ASTEROID/ JARCREW, Oxfordbands, The Wheatsheaf, 2/03

Any gig that features a vocalist jumping through the crowd like a clockwork monkey whilst other band members tumble around the stage Keystone Cops style is going to be relatively memorable, even if the tunes aren't. Luckily Jarcrew manage to indulge in such tomfoolery whilst grinding out some enticing, complex music. They've played recently with Alec Empire, and I imagine Mr. Digital Hardcore was right at home with their incandescent (slightly adolescent?) energy, love of righteous noise and eclectic musical references.

Most tracks run like this: the keyboard/minidisc offers up doodles from a variety of genres (I spotted electro, glitchtronica, dub, Sun Ra space washes and Stereolab chugalong), before the rest of the band pummel the poor thing to the floor with a pounding, but controlled and intricate, cacophony. It's like some mad Welsh sound assassins trashing an office party at The Wire. It's like a buig, ballsy riff-happy version of Melt Banana. It's also a damned good show.

Intentions Of An Asteroid own so many guitars they have a guitar tech stood at the side of the stage, with the self-conscious air of a man in a urinal queue, which pretty much sums them up. There's nothing wrong with their emo-ish power pop, but it looks and sounds a tad flat after Jarcrew.

It's spirited stuff, though, with a raw searching voal, twin guitar attack, and a touch of early Manics round the chorus area, all served in a neat, clatering parcel by four men jerking energetically on the spot, like the plastic dancing flowers sold in service stations. Unfortunately this wasn't their night, but next time it might just be.

The Young Knives sound like The Pixies, Wire and Pere Ubu. Anyone from Nightshift reading this will be shouting, "We said that first!", but it's true, TYK sound exactly like The Pixies, Wire and Pere Ubu. (Unlike, say The Rock Of Travolta, who are alleged to sound like Add N To (X) and Godspeed..., but actually sound like asome blokes playing along with A-Proto-Tune-A-Day). Not that there's any problem with this, and TYK supply taut, angular new wave excellence like it's their birthright.

It sounds superb: you probably either already know this, or have at least read it countless times before, so I'll surge ahead. George Orwell once wrote about Dickens that his architecture was poor, but his gargoyles glorious. TYK are similar. Little elements are truly special - the martial snare rattle in "Kramer Vs Kramer", the clothes, the bit that goes "J-j-j-j-j-john" - but perhaps, underneath, the songs are a bit obvious, or derivative. Then again, who cares? Do yourself a favour, go see The Young Knives. Or read Dickens.