Another gig, another effort, another attempt at showcasing new noise in a scene that in all fairness has been dead from the neck up for many an ugly year. When one puts gigs on these days one has to take into consideration many points, these being a/ Over the years 99% of the people who one knows have attended less than 10% of the shows one has put on, b/ Time has proven over and over again that people prefer comfort zones and places surrounded by familiar faces and familiar sounds, c/ When big bands stroll into town and charge a fortune to strut the same old stuff the punters will flock in their droves and sell-out the old punk values for the love of Gods and d/ Honesty, controversy and not kow-towing to other peoples beat is a awful crime for which they will make you pay over and over again. Now the solution to this is easy! The way to avoid the struggle would be to pack in, lie down like an obedient dog and let others take the reins and play at their plastic and most drastic games. Yes, crawl in a corner and die, let the spiral continue and the falseness and fraudulence carry on regardless. Maybe I should, maybe I have seen too much crap for my own good and I have become too much of a roughened stone to continue to roll with any smoothness - maybe, maybe, may-fuckin'-be. But as a stubborn git, a tough twat who will bend to no-ones will and someone who actually believes wholeheartedly in what he is doing I feel the time is not yet ripe for me to fuck off and expire. I will know and I will decide when that time is and so the fight continues and the questions will be asked, the cretinous cancers cut out and the thirst to get new, good noises exposed will be quenched further. Suck on that!

Tonight I expected little and when news came of The Damned playing in town I knew things would be hopeless. Given a choice of watching something new and for free or jiggling your washed up carcass to vibes of 'Smash It Up' and paying a good whack for the privilege it was obvious which way things would flow - such is punk in many ways these weary days. I grew up with The Damned and like a fair bit of their stuff whilst some is utterly wank and best consigned to the garbage bin but, and what a but at that, anything resembling punk for me is about moving forth and trying to get peoples lugs tuned in to vibes new, outside the box and pertinent - I am such an out of sync cunt ha, ha. Hey ho, it is my lot and no matter how I rant and rave there will be hardly any change whatsoever in a scene that has almost nothing to do with me anymore - pooh. So this Fungalpunk bastard walks on and tonight exhibited two outfits who were thoroughly enjoyable and kept my inner light flickering - this is the lowdown.

Mental Wealth are an acoustic two-piece who are completely unplugged and as miserable as a neglected Hilda Baker. By heck there ain't no inane joy here and the peeps play with a passion against all things that really grind their gritty gears. I like that and the small gathering applauded it and appreciated the fact that 2 'erberts were up, still seething and doing things in a most natural and unaffected way. They opened with the scathing 'Here Come The Bailiffs' and double punched up with the fuckin' absorbing drift of 'Stoned Alone', a song that had a natural flow and easy rhythm whilst creeping into the receptors and getting in that early dose of persuasive infection - crafty indeed. The magnetism was maintained by the next stand out pip entitled 'Absolutely Old Boy' a yarn about a Rasta Man that was awash with floated tonality, gifted adornments and an unflustered honesty that was straight out of the heart of the bloke down the street - I absolutely adored this little present. Onwards, a Leonard Cohen tribute was well done although I personally thought the admired plucker was shite and not a tonal cup of cha' that I ever wished to overly partake of - I flit over this moment - bah. 'Snowstorm' fell with DIY majesty, 'Ashes Everywhere' was fragile gossamer and in between was a lovely dig at the idle heads via 'Google It', a song that nags and nobs the whole sonic sphincter and gets it thrutching along in good wholesome time - ooh mammy. The set continued in the same vein, some choice banter was had and after several more appetising gems we finished up with 'Harry Is A Bastard' to full stop proceedings - what an excellent treat this was and in complete contrast to what was to come. Great stuff guys and if you want more you only need ask.

A chinwag, a beer and to...

The See No Evils are a band I first saw in their infancy and who, in no uncertain terms, left me with my jaw on the floor throughout their entire set. The band come from Leeds, are suited and booted with accuracy and issue forth a blend of 60's garage with essences of pop, psychedelia and swinging soul to into to the sonic dish. What they do isn't punk and they are finding their best value outside the trappings of this raped and rogered scene. The fact is though they are a class act and have a set list that is loaded with pinnacle after pinnacle. For me any band who starts a set with a behemoth of a song such as 'Secrets In Me' has got to be something special and after this prized number was rocketed forth with stunning mesmeric aplomb I knew that the few in attendance were in for a fantastic treat. The guitar glistened and glinted throughout with appetising and appealing zest and gave utter life to this set with its multifarious accents and solarised touches of the most genuine kind. The bassist was spot on the mark and weaved, pulsed, undulated and may it be said, quatro-masturbated his cables of cacophony with such conviction and accuracy I almost stopped the set and requested a solo. Skin duty was seen to with sincere and superb application and from the regular, to the roughed up to the rich and slamdunked this was an episode of how to do whatever is required with utter focus and complete admirable precision. As for vocals, what can I say - the guy is quality through and through and moves and grooves with exactness and has a tonal quality perfect for the job at hand. Highlights for me, 'Secrets In Me', ‘I’m On A Losing Steak’ (how apt), 'I Wanna Be Free', 'Cherry O', 'Werewolf Blues' and Sweet Thing' but this was solid throughout and despite a guitar blip, a strap falling off and a mike dropped it was just a fuckin' unadulterated stunner and I was convinced I had just witnessed the performance of the year - how is that for you?

Job done, farewells had and a dash off home to rest my weary head. When home I contemplated the gig whilst eating a cheese wrap and slurping a cup of Vimto. I enjoyed it, I believed in it and tried my best - what more could I have done? I know the answers to that question and they ain't gonna happen - fuck the sell-out of the soul and many arses will be left unkissed, my rules disobeyed and many expectations defied. Hey ho, another done, this git retired frustrated and yet happy - until the next one then - bugger off!

Review by Fungalpunk/OMD (18 November 2016)