Slam Dunk in 30 seconds

Last night I returned back to the Diff after a London weekend of frolics and one hell of a day at Slam Dunk South in the Uni of Herts, Hatfield.

In a nutshell, here's what went down:
1980's mane inducing rain, lots and lots of rock and punk and pop and rock and reggae-metal and acoustic, Rolo Tomassi pretty barking. Save Your Breath on Young Guns being 'dishy', June and Jude (and Debs), cake houses and jelly drums. Moneen big rock, baby pics and Max Blaze.  L'Amour La Morgue, rocked the shit out of Babycakes Bar. Fortune cookies from Sam Little - You are awesome and that's a fact! Mini-albums from Lost On Campus. Straight Lines predict knarly Jager vomit waves courtesy of all festie lovers simultaneous up-chucking will carry us all to Leeds. Security riots and disgruntled festival goers. Cider showers. Skindred hating on Florence and the Machine. NEW FOUND GLORY hold my hand Sonny sing alongs. Getting lost round Shoreditch, Cargo rip offs with Quicks and Toplis - HOW MUCH? - and Jamie T window ledge karaoke at 8am.

And that kids, is how to kick start any festival season.

A Different View

I've been keeping myself busy and of late been doing bits and bobs for the lovely people at Alternative Vision. Head over to the latest E-magazine for interviews with The Computers, Sorry and the Sinatras and GU Medicine. As well as reviews of Moneen, Boys Like Girls, The Paddingtons (on the website only) and tons of other bands.

Coming up in next month's E-magazine will be interviews with Slaves To Gravity and Young Guns.

BBPD.

An Alternative Fun Tuesday

It's Tuesday night. The weather is cold, wet, dank and dreary. Outside, the queue is gaining momentum with an eclectic arsenal of goths, skaters and indie lads sporting cracking Afros. Inside, I've been having a chat with Canuck emos Moneen. After a session of purse rifling, phone stealing and mulling over the ins and outs of crab-core dancing, everyone heads off to get ready for the show.

As all the bodies made their way inside Clwb Ifor Bach's top floor venue, quench their thirst at the bar - wristband pending ofcourse - and instinctively take places inches away from the stage. Everyone just seems to know what delight awaits them; a delight from across the pond in the shapes of Moneen and South Carolina's Emery.

Watching Moneen take to the stage in such a subdued manner was like standing on the prairie with an invisible hurricane approaching. Cue bold and beefy riffs and thundering drums mixed impeccably with heartbreaking vocals and melodies to brighten your day. Watching Kenny Bridges literally fling himself around the stage and into the front row gives the impression of man on the edge of a mental breakdown. With his quartet of equally as unhinged band of brothers, Erik Hughes (bass and vox), Chris 'Hippy' Hughes (guitar and vox) and Steve Nunnaro (drums), we were served broken guitars, 3-D drums and Afro battles from the word go. Oh, and Steve, aka Max Blaze, plays like Animal from The Muppet Show. That's a good thing. With Hippy heading into the crowd with nothing but his drum and penchant for noise, you've got to remember: What would Max Blaze do?

Feeling more than warm, we take a breather and wet our whistles while waiting for Emery. On they came and brandished their post-hardcore brand of rock in front of our noses like donkeys on Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Massive, monsterous riffs and vocals kicked in and knocked the mob off their feet. The mob are excited and merely inches from Toby Morrell (bass),  Devin Shelton (vocals, guitar and bass), Matt Carter (guitar and vocals) and Josh Head (keyboards and screams) who seem intent on learning some Welsh while they're here. Delvin, with his Gerard Butler arms, hands the mic to a dude in the front row: "Oi Emery! Croeso i Cymru!" Adding, after snatching back the mic "Oi Craig, how's life? Mae Emery yn y band gorau yn byd!" Dave Powell (drums) throws us a thumbs up and a humungous snare intro...WOW!

Keyboardist Josh Head, has hair, dance moves and talent that would make Cheryl Cole true green with envy. Oh, and he doesn't mime. His screams are for real. His moon walking shapes and drum scaling is unpredictable and ten types of brilliant.

In between the irrevocably loud tracks from their anthology, Matt finds himself imparting his guitar shredding genius on the crowd as he figures out 'new ways to play guitar'. Either with the left leg forward, or the right. Right infront of our eyes, a genius and improbable comedian is working his magic adding only to the brilliance of the night's entertainment.

For me, this was one hell of a Fun Tuesday that has my eyeballs shaking to the retina and my frontal lobes branded for life. Lush.

BBPD.