Chick Korea?

You said I was ill and you were not wrong. Urgh, I feel like crap. Here's an anonymous old BBC review to make us both feel slightly worse.

WARHEN/ PHYAL/ FORK, Oxfam benefit, Bully, 7/04

Calling your music "prog punk" is rather like calling it "chalky cheese" - a contradiction in terms. With Fork it really means "new wave with a few extras". Most afecting in parts, but hard to get a handle on tonight. The main problem is the lead guitarist, who is as loud as the rest of the band put together. At least. This wouldn't matter so much if the vocals weren't whispered in a menacing rasp, and the squealing licks deflated the effect somewhat.

Ultimately the best tracks were those where they open the rock and roll throttle, or strip things down to an ominous pulse spiced with eerie murmuring. In other words, the tracks with the fewest prog elements. Someone is missing the point here: question is, is it me or Fork?

Phyal can be relied on to produce a good show, that's a given. Their sound is simple, if fabulously unfashionable: a tranche of funk, a soupcon of mild goth, all floating in a bouillabaisse of oldschool metal. Rather like German band Uniting The Elements, who recently visited The Zodiac, Phyal banish any worries about musical naffness with a searing theatrical performance. Glenda is a committed hair-flailing frontwoman and the band is compact and forceful. They could maybe do with an extra string to their song-writing bow, but they're certainly worth watching.

Where did all those Supergrass comparisons come from? OK, Warhen are young, a trio, and full of beans, but that's where it ends. Aerosmith, AC/DC and Cream are more useful reference points. It's silly, it's adolescent, it's resolutely dumb but Warhen's marriage of 70s cock rock and punk attack is great fun. They play well tonight too, though the tiny powerhoue drummer steals the show, as ever. Maybe the music doesn't linger in the memory, but for 30 minutes Warhen were captivating. Now, if only they could learn some interesting stage banter...

The Prong Remains The Same

Do you know, when I looked at this review, I had no recollection of writing it. None whatever. Although wierdly I recall the actual gig quite well. Funny how the old mind works, eh? This, if I remember correctly (and we've proved there's no guarantee of that) was the last time I saw Fork, as they split up soon after. Pity, they were just beginning to get good. Still, all together now: This could be the last tine...

FORK/ SHIRLEY/ EMERALD SKY/ THE RELATIONSHIPS – THE X 17/11/06

Exquisitely English indie janglers The Relationships write the most perfect pop songs in Oxford. They look like they presented schools’ science programmes in 1983, but they create the sort of elegant chiming little anthems that may have sprung up if The Byrds, R.E.M.and Noel Coward had all been signed to Postcard Records. Their inherent politeness does risk being as rock and roll as crustless cucumber sarnies, but is salvaged by the fine balance between the writing’s crafted melancholy and the barely controlled rock beast that is drummer Tim Turan. OK, they’re not as good on stage as they are on record, but very few in this town are likely ever to be.

Emerald Sky are a Cambridge-based female cock rock trio (notebooks out, anatomists) who seem to play Oxford every twenty minutes. Clearly certain promoters hear more in their AC/DC Zepellin approximations than we. Their full fat hammer-on rocking is amusing enough, but palls after repeated hearings. Emerald Sky are admittedly fun, but so is drunken Twister, and we wouldn’t give that a good review.

We’ve been fairly lukewarm in our reception of Shirley in the past, and we’d just like to say this: we were wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. Shirley are a brilliant party band. Whilst it’s tough for demi-Gods like us to admit mistakes, the blow is softened by some of the most infectiously euphoric cod-latin pop-rock on the planet. Replete with piercing snare stabs and helium-light acoustic riffing, Shirley’s songs are tight, bouncy and compact enough to make Buddy Holly look like King Crimson. Admittedly the vocals don’t quite gel tonight, but the rhythm section sounds crisper than ever. We even tapped our feet for a bit, readers, it was that enjoyable.

Fork have been confusing audiences for a while now, by fusing six-string funk basslines onto tinny little punk frames. If this sounds like a recipe for a huge mess, for a while it was, but Fork have been improving steadily over the past year. This is partly due to the addition of Tim from Junkie Brush on drums, who adds not only a much needed sense of structure, but also cheeky roto-tom action. Also, leader James Serjeant has seemingly realised that he has a negligible range and changed his vocals to a malevolent hiss that works remarkably well. Yes, they could do with more like the abstract lounge-jazz of “How Do I Get Out Of Here?”, but Fork are moving in the right direction: if they aren’t quite there yet, we’re at least enjoying the ride.