Music To Buck An Ear To

I may not have achieved much during January, but I did come up with the name Cloaca Bilk, which any punk bands are welcome to have.

PEERLESS PIRATES/ OUI LEGIONNAIRES, Moshka, Wheatsheaf, 10/1/15

It’s hard to know what to say about Cheltenham’s Oui Legionnaires.  On one hand their twitchy post-rock flavoured emoting feels unexceptional and a good few years out of date, yet on the other they play with ability and passion that demands attention.  On one hand their angsty US yelps sound like Doogie Howser getting snarky with his ISP, yet on the other the insistent cubist guitar parts give them a Cap’n Jazz intensity that keeps them interesting.  On one hand their final off-mike refrain chanting undershoots its mark and falls awkwardly flat, yet on the other their toes inwards, balls of the feet, nervous tic meek-core energy is infectious.  It’s fifty-fifty; we’ll let them play the advantage and see if they can score in future.

Like Post-It notes and selfie sticks, Peerless Pirates’ main idea is so beautifully simple you’re annoyed you didn’t think of it yourself: The Smiths without the egos.  They’ve taken some of Britain’s greatest pop music, and stripped away not only Morrissey’s passive-aggressive poetics, but also Marr’s penchant for guitar hero classic rock chop-wankery; it’s as if the rhythms section ruled The Smiths, and they were always the best ones (smack notwithstanding).  And the true stroke of genius?  They’ve filled the void with pirates.  Pirates are synonymous with fun, where childhood abandon meets hard liquor and entry level cosplay, and pretty much make most things in life more enjoyable.  Over the years Peerless Pirates have become as tight as well-kept rigging and as solid as a hundred year old capstan, and slowly, unobtrusively their indie-shanty schtick has become one of the best nights out in Oxford.  Barring the odd dashes of Tex-Mex hot sauce, their sound has not noticeably developed, but their focus has, and we defy anyone to leave a set like this without a big silly-arse grin.

Plus, because Peerless Pirates were on our radar first, we’re able to dismiss a certain syndicalism and winkie obsessed comedian as a mere sartorial copyist of lead singer Cliff Adams. Revolution?  Maybe later; for now there’s a rum keg to be tapped.