I attended the first ever Nice and Sleazy, hard work it was with a below average turn-out and some fine bands struggling to convince the punters.  Time has moved on, now this event is a popular gem in a wealthy calendar of noise and it was way overdue before I put in a cameo appearance again and did my humble bit.  Every year Leon Punkined promises me and my family a free do and I make plans and somehow get side-lined with family or wildlife duties.  This year we took up the offer (a one off, next time we pay) and said all three of us would attend on the Saturday, come hell or high shit-laden Morecambe water - yucky.  Anyway off we three troopers set and after one wrong turning arrived all safe and sound to begin a friendly day of good noise and some decent banter.  Many fine faces passed before my slightly sozzled eyes throughout the day and contributed to an easy welcoming feeling that me, my wife and daughter all felt and appreciated.  As per, many use these places for a catch up, which is all well and good but for me it is getting a gutful of noise to ponder, to show my face and support a few stalwarts as well as hopefully finding a few new vibes to jig to - this is a brief glimpse through the keyhole into one day of this fine festival - I suggest someone else does the other days - not a lot to ask surely!
Opening at 12 noon on the main stage were Hung Like Hanratty, a slightly controversial band I hear with many a tune liable to cause offence or push boundaries - sounds sweet fodder for Fungal.  This was bold and up front noise from a band with balls bared, mania shared and who obviously have no desire to wrap their output in fancy acoustic attire or sonic frilly knickers (unlike the famed Farting Lady of Lancashire who can paralyse donkey's at 400 paces with a mere rectal push and sphincter squeeze).  The subject matter concerned the foul Cunt known has Jimmy Saville, picking up your dogshit and other such delights.  For me the basic approach was well founded, the lack of ponsing about rewarding and the overall clarity to the vulgarity finely delivered and so rather than come away disgusted I came away loving it.  I have these buggers booked for a ten band thriller in Elsecar - looking good for sure, just make sure you don’t travel too far down the comedic route and become a parody.
 A dash and to CSOD, a metalised band I know and love and who are turning up the thermals to level 'unbearable' (unless you are soaked in noisy petrol and just wanna burn to discordant death - why not indeed).  This is a well drilled machine with a raucous edge enhanced by slap and dunk drums (the stand in stick man did a marvellous job), well wanked and thoroughly bruising bassism, flash and riff guitar work and of course the haemorrhaged tonsilisation that seems borne from trying to swallow too many chilly flavoured testes.  This was a roaster, the brows of the punters started to bear beadlets of sweat (hence my kind assistance in cooling a few down later on - I love you Stu) and CSOD moved up the ladder of conviction with ease - stunning.  No time to pause, a few beers and to The Red Eyes, a fave band of mine, one who stick to melody and refuse to tear out arses but prefer to tickle them instead - each to their own ya sexy sods.  'Norah Louise Kuzmah' is a classic in the underdog circles and opened today - wow - still sounds fresh and truly was a stunning opening burst.  These musicians know their style, nail it with ease and stick at a strong and consistent pace throughout without rupturing the sac of rhythm, without prolapsing the tit of tuneage.  Smooth, controlled and with Mr Bishop at the helm and his Scotch warblings this was a fine 'catch up' moment and cemented a hat-trick of vibes to fuckin' bask in.  'Kids' was another pip but I may as well just say the set list was awash with crackers - up the bastards with The Red Eyes (and that includes the drunks). 
Scared, a bloody reliable sound this lot are making at the mo, really DIY in essence and developing into something that tweaks  the nipples of yesteryear, thumps the full breast of today and offers forth melodic milk for tomorrow.  My responsive titties certainly picked up on the sonic signals radiated and severely tingled with pleasure at the under-processed racket that squirted forth.  I really do need to get these a gig, I like to whole shebang, it offers no distracting frills but keeps it nicely on line - watch this space. 
Natter, chatter and splatter - some good folk conversed with, some kind words exchanged, a few odd ends noted and duly listed as bastards to not waste time on and then, back into the tent for some good earthy rock and roll dinnage via the ever reliable Kingcrows.  This band I have done a bit with over the years, spread their word, watched others pick em' up and give em’ a flight or two and stood back and admired their progress and darn decent conduct has they move in these musical circles.   This is a band who never fail to impress with their well jangled bunch of assorted sonic keys.  Sing-a-long, pulsing with regular riffs, party-fied, somewhat glammed and delivered with an ever reliable sense of joy.   Again, now is not the time to dwell on individual songs as the whole set comes as a bundle and does the job in gang rape style rather than now and again shitter shufties.  I rated these a long while back, I still do, and so do many more - these four puddings provide good proof of my judgement - ta chaps!
Zippy de dum...
Back to the main stage - Obnoxious UK - solid as a rock, nice to see em' on a big stage - any doubts?  Not a one - a real fine band once more growing in stature due to the fact they are stubborn bastards, have enough nouse to believe in what they do and have a few buggers behind them that actually believe in the output (count me in that lot - and proud to be so).  The songs are injected with an horrified thread, come with consistent melody and are now drilled at you with a tight and unaffected sincerity.  A few different melting pots of noise are dipped into (honey pots if you prefer) which leaves us well satisfied and somewhat utterly comforted by a crew in a set zone.  All I ask is that the band now really start to flex their melodic muscles and push themselves into new sonic circles (preferably not rectal ones but that will be their choice) and hopefully come up trumps (no pun intended) and win even more loyal fans.  Love it!

Ping!  I am the human table tennis ball - back and forth I go.

Destination Venus - what can I say?  Great people, great band, utterly great noise!  How's that?  Well what if I add to the argument that the band deliver their noise with relish, have a fine backline of racket going on with a frontman who thoroughly indulges his entire being into the set and helps convince the onlooker that this is fun, frivolous, popped up and completely liberated and easy acoustica to just fuckin' enjoy.  Each and every song drips with fine hooks, sweet riffage and bop-o-matic zest that effervesces all around any arena in which they play.  Bafflingly the band have always been starved of attention but slowly and most assuredly people are waking up to the lads who in it for pure DIY sonic reasons and with no ulterior motives.  I love the simple things in life as it is where the most beautiful and sincere aspects of life are found - now this 4 piece may not win any good looking awards but by heck their noise is beautiful and they are thoroughly sincere with it - quite simply one of my fave crews around.


Across to watch a stalwart in the scene, a 100% merchant of one man noise with a heart to admire, a commitment to the cause to adore and a wonderful natural nature to praise, promote and use as an example to all those with underhand cards to play.  Paul Carter ye acoustic Farter who trembles his 6 wired sphincter with cheeky, impudent joy and forever and always will bring a smile to this old mug and many others who like 'bloke in the pub' earthiness and tongue-in-cheek, thought provoking honesty.  The room was packed, Paul strummed, blew, thrummed and yodelled away many of his finest ditties with everyone enthralled and taking in the work of a genuine chap who just fuckin' loves it.  The 'Benny Hill Theme Tune' saw a couple indulge in a chase around which lightened the output even more and if any example was to be had to represent the cosy, relaxed feel of this festival this would be up there amongst them.  Well done Paul - I really just can't fault you sir - annoying but there ya go - ye be an admirable fellow.


Across for an outfit locally close to me, namely Dile, and the skanked up, old school two toned vibes that they deliver so bloody well.  Led by controversial gob on legs Dennis 'The Oi' Matthews this was a peach of a performance (well what I saw at least) with tones, trembles and swells of the sonic movement all doing more than their classy bit and once more altering the options on this day of noise that so many surely appreciate.  Dile have their doubters but have many shouters and I for one am happy to advise even the most awkward twat to check em' out fully of the belief that more often than not they will come out converted or musically perverted.  Dennis is a fine frontman but even he needs a good reliable backing group and, it seems, the help of a young turnip who was really into the vibe (good lad, never let it go sir).  The output was most welcome today and I lapped up what I saw and made note to catch these buggers again pretty soon and not leave it as long again - cheers people!

A natter again with numerous aces and faces about booze, birds (feathered varieties), grub, noise and of course the joys of QC.  The Dugz came next and gave a concrete account of themselves with an abundance of granite tuneage and well versed melodic insight.  The crew were borne from the ashes of The Prairie Dugz, another fine unit and moved along with enthusiastic impetus and stable string work.  The front lass strutted with confidence and trilled with authenticity and for me gave a lovely leading edge to the whole shebang.  Ram on guitar, the main driving force behind the crew and all round passionate soaked good guy is a gem and a necessity to the scene around him with his manic insistence, undying belief and fuckin get up and go thrust.  Yeah man this was good enough for Fungal - I look forward to the next encounter...oh and the T-shirt you have conned me into buying ya swine ha, ha - I shall wear it with pride.

Flashing lights of brown, my underpants are down, the bowels buzz with merriment - oooh err there's a disco going on in my dirt box - that explains those sequinned flares I shat out the other day.

Dirtbox Disco do it in party style it very bloody well indeed.  If you are looking to crap in your slippers of awkwardness, tear off your tense laden duds and massage your privates into comfort zone pleasure then this is the band for you.  Fun, fruity, with an avalanche of switch off and jig tuneage the DBD bunch aren't growing in stature for no reason at all - they are getting bigger by the day because they are darn good, are a nice friendly bunch of folk and appeal to the many due to their lack of spiky sonic scummage and angular stance.  Not everyone wants a finger up their jacksie or their self inflicted safety belts yanking off and thrown into the dustbin of confusion so this lot have their fanciers, their faces in the crowd that need some simplistic escapism away from the pish.  I dip in and dabble, of course I like digits in my duffelbag, I like angular entrances into my mental arrangements but that doesn't stop me indulging in  a little bit of shit container shenanigans.  I enjoyed this, I was in a pleasant mood, next time they may get the V-sign and i’ll be all tetchy but hey - many flavours to the old fruitcake as per!  Well played fellas, roll with yer good times.

Finally for me and my daughter, my wife had had enough and gone to the car for a read and rest, 999 - a band you know are gonna deliver the goods, from first to last in predictable yet pleasing style.  The set never seems to change, it appears to be the same one they have done since year zero but when sozzled, in the mood for something familiar and easy then it really doesn't have to be anything else.  The songs came thick and fast like a heavyweight wrestlers orgasm (I apologise for that) and gems such as 'Feelin' Alright With The Crew', 'Homicide' and 'Nasty Nasty' gushed from the bands dinned up gonads and splashed over the expectant crowd in fine style.  No need to over elaborate, to dissect deeply or indulge in a fraudulent, needless autopsy - just have this, become impregnated by the sonic seeds and enjoy.  Day done, phew - a fine full stop.

So done, dusted, a bit more rusted and after goodbyes and chits and chats with many faces, a kick up the arse of my good lady for dawdling about we three moochers moved homeward thoroughly convinced of a darn good day at a very wonderful festival that is standing the test of time.  The atmosphere, the set up, the smooth running and the entire machinations that make this a success is all credit to everyone involved and I hope it continues on and on forever.  You hear the odd rumour of this is the last one, things could run dry or other such bilge - fuck all that, dig in, do it and remember - the value and repayment is in the joy it brings for so many and the fact that it still primarily sticks to the underground roots - applause, applause all round I feel.  Leon Punkined thank you and Ivan – brace thyself – you are both not getting out of it so easily.

review by Fungalpunk/OMD (26 May 2014)