The Wild Bunch: How The Western Ain't How It Used To Be

The Wild Bunch:

How The Western Ain't How It Used To Be

This doesn't often happen with a film but the first and last lines of Sam Peckinpah's The Wild Bunch (1969) sum up just about everything you need to know about the film. An absolutely key film for its time, Peckinpah's brutal revisionist western, along with the likes of Bonnie and Clyde (Arthur Penn, 1967) and Easy Rider (Dennis Hopper, 1969), signified a change in the representation of American values in cinema. Particularly relating to the mythic West. The Wild Bunch represented a seismic shift in how that most American of film genres worked. The opening line, “If they move, kill 'em!” is a threat of violence spoken by a gang leader to his followers during a daylight bank robbery. Its delivery jolts the film into life; a slap in the face after a slow, teasing, almost twee walk through a deliberately typical Western town during nostalgic freeze-frame credits. It's a great line, capturing the uncompromising nature of the speaker (William Holden's Pike) and his hard-boiled accomplices. The most interesting thing about it, though, is who says it: this line, this threat of violence, this amoral order to a group of criminals, is spoken by the good guy. John Wayne or James Stewart, this is not. The closing line, “It ain't like it used to be, but it'll do,” is a eulogy for a changed American genre; perhaps not edging further West and more, but still wild.

'Revisionist' is a term you might have read in articles about films of this time. It is often applied when a film breaks or challenges the conventions of a genre, daring to do something new and making the statement on what the genre is now. The Western, arguably the purest of genres, is also the most open for revisionism and the reason is because of that purity. In theory, one could watch a short snippet of a Western and immediately identify it as a Western. The same could probably not be said for a musical (if you watched a non-singing bit) or a horror (if you watched a non-frightening bit), but the iconography of the Western has largely remained intact from the 1920s to the relatively rare occasions when they're made today. You tend not to get 'revisionist' horror films; horror is a genre which, along with, say, sci-fi, moves with the times. Evolving and therefore immune to revision. The Western, to a point, remained fairly static in terms of what one could expect. The Western was a portrait of an innocent time, when America was still being built. And this article is about the point where it changed.

It's a cliché of the classic western that the Good Guys wear white hats. Typically, they defend the homestead, the town, the herd, the very essence of civilization in an America expanding Westwards. More so, they defend traditional values, morality and a man's place in the world as a strong individual. Against whom do they defend these things? Quite literally, the wild of the West (the name didn't happen by accident). Depending upon the era: Indians, convicts and their gangs, thieves, Mexicans; anyone who represents the perceived disruption of 'civilization'. It's a very traditional, Conservative viewpoint, and one which was blown open by, among other films of the late 60s, The Wild Bunch.

Director Sam Peckinpah, already something of a Western veteran, pioneered an editing style which is still powerful to watch today. The barrage of jump cuts which accompany shootouts in this film are an assault on the senses, heightening and accentuating the violence. Packinpah uses a simultaneous mixture of slow motion photography and rapid jump cuts to startle and upset the viewer's senses. This is a far cry from the classic western shootout where John Wayne shoots from the hip, his target clutches his stomach before spinning round and falling bloodlessly to the ground. This was both heightened and realistic at the same time and still has a visceral impart today.

So the film is visually brutal, but morally perhaps even more so. This is a film which has no good guys. The heroes are the thieves, and we as an audience are supposed to get behind them and hope for some form of victory. This is largely driven by the charisma and star status of leads William Holden and Ernest Borgnine (as Pike's brother-in-arms, Dutch) but also because we are given no other choice. Relentlessly pursued by Robert Ryan's Deke and his band of Hyena-like bounty hunters and in over their heads with a Mexican warlord they really shouldn't have done business with, the film deals with their way of life coming to an end and their inability to move on. As the audience (of the Western, rather the just the film), we sympathise with them, seeing our nice safe genre coming to an end, and ultimately come to respect their moral code to each other if not the law of the land. Of course, this wasn't the first time a Western protagonist had straddled the line between civilization and wilderness; John Wayne's famous role in The Searchers (John Ford, 1956) touched on the theme but with less conviction and social relevance. There are no good guys, no white hats left in the West; only degrees of bad, lesser evils and shades of grey. And what is this if not relevant to the social climate in America at the time? Vietnam and Kennedy, embedded in the social consciousness, were evidence that America was corrupt and not the mythic utopia once represented in Westerns.

The Wild Bunch has an almost palpable air of finality and despair to it, punctuated only by moments of levity in the camaraderie of the titular group. We are reminded throughout that their ways as outlaws are at an end. As they approach the final confrontation, driven to it by loyalty to their captured friend, Angel (Jamie Sanchez), we know that they face insurmountable odds and that they are sure to perish. The group's decision to return to save an almost-dead Angel from their former employer Mapache (Emilio Fernandez) is one of their only moral decisions. Having provided this warlord with formidable stolen weapons, they return to face him, demanding their companion is returned to them. They are betrayed and one of cinema's greatest bloodbaths ensues. As they fall, the final man's hand still gripping the machine gun they stole for Mapache earlier in the film, we also witness the end of the old West. The Western goes on, but with Pike and Dutch, its moral core dies.

And then then comes the final line; the line to summarise the state of play of the mythic Wild West. Bounty hunter Deke, thwarted at every attempt to capture Pike & Co, arrives just after the battle, failing again to capture them one final time. It's a hollow victory for Pike's crew; they died as free men fighting for their friend, but they still died. Offered the choice between joining Mexican revolutionaries or trying to avoid jail on his own, Deke is offered the enticement “it ain't how it used to be, but it'll do,” and that is the state of the Western in 1969; brutal, morally blurry and with an air of decay and end. John Wayne apparently commented that he thought that the film was “destroying the myth of the old west.” At a time when people were thirsty for the truth and jaded by the myth, I can think of no higher praise. Well, if no higher praise can be found, it'll do.

Therapy? Newcastle Academy, 24th April 2015

Therapy?

Newcastle Academy, 24^th April 2015

This was always going to be a special day for me. You get days like that sometimes, where all of the things that you're excited about happen at once. First and foremost I was off work, which is always pleasant. Secondly, it was pay day, meaning I could afford to go and enjoy myself. Thirdly, being the massive geek that I am, I had arranged to meet a friend to go see Age of Utron. The final piece of my jigsaw of awesome was the fact that my favourite band in the world was playing in town.

I love Therapy?. Absolutely love them. From the age of 14 or 15 when I heard the song 'Auto Surgery' on a Kerrang! compilation tape (yes, a tape. Digital downloads were a twinkle in some nerd's eye at the time) I was hooked. I'm now 34 years of age. In that time, friends and family have came and went, I have became more fat, grey and grumpy, and Newcastle United have still won nothing. Other than my team being shit, one thing has been a constant in my life for the ensuing 20 years: and that thing is Therapy?.

There is a certain darkness about their music that has always appealed to me. Unlike a plethora of other rock bands for whom 'darkness' is part of the image, something contrived or done out of expectation, with Therapy? there has always been an honesty. When you hear Andy Cairns singing “Don't tell me everything's alright. And don't include me in your straight life,” you know he means it. They are also a band who have remained brilliantly consistent for their whole career; a comment I could never level at some of my other favourite bands. Much as I love Metallica and Pearl Jam, they have undoubtedly released patchy albums over the years. Even bands I respect greatly, like Clutch or Every Time I Die have had their less-than-inspirational moments. Therapy?, however, have done two things: never repeated themselves and never let their standards drop. How many bands could look themselves in the mirror after 25 years of existence and say that?

So the film was fun (but that's another blog for another day) and the beer and company were excellent as ever. So much so that we arrived at the venue in time to miss both support acts. I happen to know that Ashes Of Iron are an excellent band, who opened for Therapy? on a previous tour. Apologies to all concerned that my love of bourbon and bullshitting won out over my curiosity over support acts.

Expecting the set to be light on Troublegum (not so, as it happens) and heavy on new album Disquiet we watch with a prickle of excitement and anxiety as they walk on, beaming from ear to ear, and tear into the barrage of riffs and pain that is recent single 'Still Hurts'. Despite the song being new and relatively unfamiliar most people in the room seem to be singing along to that glorious melody from the bridge section: “this feeling's never left me, I want an easy mind” and you can tell every person singing it really means it. Game on, gentlemen.

Much like their last two visits to this room, on which the Crooked Timber and A Brief Crack Of Light albums were heavily represented, a lot of the set is drawn from their fantastic new record, Disquiet. It's a more straightforward, less experimental album than the two predecessors, with moments that could easily have been drawn from the likes of Weezer or any number of U.S. 'punk' bands of the last 20 years, had their singers suffered a severe emotional trauma. That's no criticism at all, but some of the songs are almost pop-punk in their simplicity and melody, but still drawn from the dark and turbulent place that is Andy Cairns' mind.

The jubilant reception that greets songs with gloomy names like 'Isolation' and 'Die Laughing' is an irony that always makes me smile. Of their older material we get 'Nausea', 'Potato Junkie', 'Stories' and a stunning 'A Moment Of Clarity'. 'Screamager' and 'Teethgrinder' and so ubiquitous to their sets that it would be sacrilege not to hear them. When Disquiet is visited we are treated to the likes of 'Tides', 'Idiot Cousin', 'Torment, Sorrow, Misery, Strife' (introduced as a song you can hum on the way to the supermarket), 'Words Fail Me' (which is urgent, fast and full of mania) and an epic, crushing 'Deathstimate'.

Now it can be a real drag when when bands promote their new albums: you tend to want to hear the old classics, the songs that first drew you to the band. However the band want to promote their new album, play the songs they're still proud of and excited about playing and as a result you politely tap your foot and sing the few bits you can remember from the chorus. Been there before? Me too. When you go to see Iron Maiden, which song are you more excited about hearing: 'Isle Of Avalon' or 'Hallowed Be Thy Name'? Tonight was an exception to the rule, and it's credit to the quality of Therapy?'s recent output and the sheer passion in their performance that the crowd go absolutely mental for the newer songs.

The band themselves are brilliant throughout. It's hard to believe that these guys are in their mid/late 40s and have a good 25 years of wear and tear under their belts, such is their energy and enthusiasm. The smile on Michael McKeegan's face never falters and it's a nice thing that an audience can still make him so happy after all those years. Cairns plays impeccably, his wry wit coming through in his banter with the crowd. Their secret weapon is Neil Cooper who is a talented drummer and whose talents are used to such effect that songs are given an extra level of depth through his off kilter rhythms and fills.

They pull an odd choice out of the bag when they play 'Skinning Pit'. It's probably the most sinister song I've ever danced to, and I had forgotten both how good it was and that I was 11 years of age when it was released. Cairns teases us with a few bars of The Beatles' 'Nowhere Man' before tearing into set closer 'Nowhere' which is played with such glee and enthusiasm that you forget they've played it at nearly every show since 1994.

My friend sums it up perfectly when he says “that's as close to a religious experience as I ever get.” It's no exaggeration or hyperbole; this band matters to us. From the days when I would listen to Troublegum over and over, lyrics like “here comes a girl with perfect teeth, I bet she won't be smiling at me...” have been burned onto my psyche ever since. As they were last time I saw them, tonight they were the perfect live band. The only sadness I experience when I leave comes with the thought that there surely can't be many more years of this. Nights like this are to be cherished because surely we can't expect another 25 years of being shown through the scary corners of Andy Cairns' thoughts, can we? But for all the time we are lucky enough to get with them, I'll be front of the queue for tickets.

Lower Than Atlantis, Newcastle Riverside, 12th April 2015

Lower Than Atlantis

Newcastle Riverside 12/04/15

This was one of those shows I almost didn't bother going to. A band I like but don't (quite) love, a show that I couldn't convince anyone to go to (not that I tried very hard, but still...) and an audience that I had decided well in advance was going to be horribly young, horribly hip and horribly horrible (correctly, as it turned out).

Avoiding monsoon conditions on an otherwise sunny Sunday afternoon, I arrived at the venue bright and early to see a lengthy queue full of tight jeans, waxed hair and carefully attended beards and decided to hit the nearest pub instead of stand among them and be the oldest guy at the disco. Deciding to try the resurrected Popolo's, I found largely the same crowd (but old enough to drink) inside, enjoying the contrived décor and elaborate cocktails. Still, a vast improvement on whichever identikit Quayside shithole was here before.

In the length of time it took me to down a very expensive glass of vodka and coke, I contemplated the night's entertainment. Lower Than Atlantis are from London (Watford, according to Wikipedia) and you really can tell when you hear frontman Mike Duce sing. However, through a combination of witty lyrics, heartfelt delivery and catchier-than-the-cold melodies, he manages to make this seem endearing rather than irritating. They took a while to grow on me but have done so like the fungus on my feet; I can't quite get rid of them (from my ipod, not my feet) but at the same time I'm slightly embarrassed by it. I feel like I'm too told to enjoy this band and, having grown up through the golden era of Britrock, can't help but feel like I've heard it done before. Indeed, the kind of melodic, tailor-made-for-stadia rock that they peddle is the sort of thing that Terrorvision used to do and that Ginger Wildheart can still write in his sleep. The likes of Ash, A and Skyscraper (look them up, you won't regret it) were doing this nearly 20 years ago and were pretty damn good at it.

LTA, however, do have an ever-increasing array of quality tunes, a way with words and a knack for crafting a simple but effective earworm. A lazy journalist might call them the UK's answer to the Foo Fighters or Jimmy Eat World, although this is slightly unfair because LTA may, unlike those two, still be capable of surprising us. I'm not a journalist, but I am lazy, so the comparison is good enough for me.

So I came along tonight on the strength of some good, catchy and genuinely endearing tunes and a band with a boatload of potential. I arrive poorer but drunker to find the place already wall-to-wall and seemingly enthralled by a band called RVRIS. Without having heard them before, I had already kind of heard them before. The sort of band that is branded 'rock' because they have a guitarist, who plays all the same notes as the keyboard player so there's no dynamics at all and only a beat to pick out from the noise. The singer seemed like she was a lot of fun but the whole band seemed to be more focused on their clothes than their songs: to my jaded eyes they looked like somebody had sent them into H&M on a dare to buy all of the most embarrassing clobber they could find.

Next up was We Are The Ocean, a band I had actually heard of but will hopefully never have to hear again...

Anyone remember mid-1990s 'grunge' also-rans Bush? The singer fathered a model, married Gwen Stefani and then sold millions of records to Americans who were bored of Pearl Jam and wanted to listen to a poor imitation of Pearl Jam instead of Pearl Jam themselves. Well, Bush were terrible and memorable only for Gavin Rossdale's amazing cheekbones (look them up, you won't regret it...). We Are The Ocean are in the same category: cheekbones over tunes. The musical equivalent of a fashion catalogue: populated by beautiful people that you'll forget about as soon as you stop looking. Granted the singer has a very good voice but he seems to do the same thing with it on every song. An embarrassing song about still being able to smell some poor lady's perfume was followed by an even more embarrassing song about being bitter at parents. They fucked off after some indeterminate length of time, leaving some of the crowd inexplicably impressed. It was an overwrought non-event to my ears but hey, each to their own.

LTA have a lyrical knack for two things: alternatively, disarming, almost confessional honesty and a brash confidence which borders on arrogance. Their songs can either be quite moving portraits of events in Mike Duce's life or attention grabbers about their career and how ace they are. I wondered which would come across in their performance.

They open with recent single 'Criminal', all soaring chorus and insistent riff. The kids go apeshit and it only takes until they play older tune 'Far Q' for a (really quite soft) moshpit to kick off. The latest album Lower Than Atlantis is understandably well represented with the lighter numbers 'Emily' and 'Words Don't Come So Easily' getting great responses. Indeed, Duce asks the audience which of us had only recently became fans. Surprisingly few hands go up, suggesting that they are already gathering quite a loyal fanbase. Disappointingly, only 'Something Better Came Along' is played from 2012's excellent Changing Tune album.

The band play well, but it feels like there's something not quite there, as if 100% is not always being given. While lead guitarist Ben Sansom quietly does his thing and bass player Dec Hart looks like the happiest guy in the world throughout, it strikes me that something seems off about Mike Duce. His voice is strong on record but tonight it seems like something is missing; he isn't holding the notes as long as he should and he seems quite low in the mix at times. It doesn't spoil much unless you're a picky bastard like me, but he does come across as quite reserved when he's singing. His confidence comes across much more when he addresses us between songs and it's this kind of stage banter than can cement a band's reputation, getting the crowd on side.

Towards the end, Duce asks the audience to separate (easier said than done, given the dearth of space) so he can stand in the middle of the floor to play a sad song called 'Another Sad Song' on his own. Now this can easily go wrong and by his own admission he would “look like a massive wanker” if it did. Fortunately it's really well received and makes for a nicely intimate moment.

The biggest cheer of the night goes up for older single 'Deadliest Catch' (the lyrics are a witty twist on the adage 'plenty more fish in the sea'). It's by no means their best song, but people go nuts for it. They close with a stomping 'Here We Go', which is surely set to be their calling card for years to come.

So overall a good but not quite great night. They played well but didn't excel, didn't play all of the songs I wanted to hear and sometimes sounded a bit shy. But to leave on a positive, they filled this place and seem to have some young and loyal fans. I have some faith that these guys will get bigger and better and tonight is just another rung in their slow ascent to Wembley Stadium.

Special mention must go to the enormous waistcoat-clad hipster stood in front of me, who looked like a bouncer that forgot to stop at the door. He only seemed to know songs from the new album and I have never in my life seen somebody look so terrified in a moshpit. Hilarious.

Marmozets, Newcastle Riverside 25/02/15

Marmozets

Newcastle Riverside 25/02/15

Does anyone read these blogs? Seriously, anyone? Not that I mind if anyone does or doesn't (and if you don't, you are rendering this introduction quite pointless by not reading it), it's just that what I'm about to write about Marmozets should come as no surprise to those of you who that saw me give them my vote as album of the year for their debut The Weird and Wonderful Marmozets. I was impressed enough by the record but seeing them in the flesh has affirmed one thought for me, and it's one that has lingered in my normally scattershot brain from leaving the venue to right this second: this band is the future.

Ok, I should warn you that like many of my reviews, this will contain some serious hyperbole but I happen to think it's justified after what I just witnessed. So... where to start... Yeah, that's right: the pub.

Meeting fellow amateur critic/comic book nerd/swearing enthusiast Nick in a local pub, we discussed tonight's headliners, to whom I had introduced Nick the day before and agreed that the record was cool but that the audience was going to be full of hipsters and children (we were nearly right). Having been to a woefully under-attended Funeral For A Friend show a month earlier, Nick knew the venue better than I did. I hadn't been near the place since I endured a truly dreadful night there under its previous incarnation, the annexe of Hell that was the nightclub Sea. Anyone who claims to have had fun in there at any point can stop reading now and kindly wash the lies from your mouth with some minging Tyne water. It was an irredeemable shithole of a nightclub but the new owners' decision to do almost nothing to the décor has lent it a certain rough and unpolished charm, the likes of which has not been seen since The Academy sucked the soul out of the local scene through a corporate straw and Newcastle University underwent a Star Trek-inspired plastic makeover. I liked it immediately.

Opening band Thought Forms were frankly baffling. A three piece with no bass player, their ponderous noise crescendos made me think of a strange metaphor. Anyone remember the Brass Eye episode about drugs? The one about the dangers of Cake, a made-up drug from Prague? Well one of the symptoms of cake use was that you experience time at a different pace to other people; one second feeling like a fortnight. That is the best description of Thought Forms I can think of. And I really tried.

Some hilariously expensive beer lubricated us enough to enjoy Steak Number Eight, a Belgian band about whom I know absolutely nothing but their nationality. In fact, I know very little about Belgium as a whole except Poirot, Tintin, Eden Hazard and Bruges. On the strength of this, however, I think I want to know more. By turns patient and prog-y and then dynamic and heavy, they reminded me of defunct bands-you've-never-heard-of Burst and Isis (the progressive rock band, not the lunatics or the Goddess) and impressed me enough to investigate further, which I will do when I've finished writing this.

Looking every bit like they just got kicked out of sixth form for breaking the uniform rules, Marmozets walk on and kick into 'Move, Shake, Hide'. The Bingley quintet, consisting of two sets of siblings, are young and full of energy, much of which is channelled through the elastic form of singer Becca Macintyre, who is a bundle of nervous energy and frantic dance moves throughout. She throws shapes like Phil 'The Power Taylor throws... well, you know where this is heading.

I need to get something out of the way before I go any further, just so I don't have to mention it again because it really isn't important. But I did notice this: Becca Macintyre is a girl. Girls get a shitty deal in the rock scene. Rock bands fronted by or even featuring a female member seem to be a novelty and attract such attention more for chromosome count rather than important ingredients like songs or talent. To marketing people and some fans alike, it becomes a gimmick. And in fairness, some of the singers themselves, or maybe just their record company image consultants, don't do themselves any favours. The overtly sexualised singers of Evanescense, Lacuna Coil, The Pretty Reckless garner attention more for little black dresses or stupid faux-Victorian baby doll costumes rather than they do for a great song or a unique voice. That really is sad: a woman in a rock band should not be a novelty, nor should she have to perform in a sexualised manner to share a stage with the hackneyed likes of fucking Black Veil Brides et al. So yeah, Becca is a girl but much more important than that statement is how utterly irrelevant it is, because she possesses an incredible voice, which requires no 'sexy' window dressing or image.

Now, I'm prone to getting emotional when certain singers do their thing really well; the first time I heard Eddie Vedder sing live I cried like a baby. Ditto (but to a letter extent) John Garcia of Kyuss and Colin Doran of Hundred Reasons. When I hear a certain type of voice, used with passion, used like the singer really means it, it goes right through me. This voice can safely be added to the list. Capable of a powerful vibrato or a gutteral roar, often during the same line, Macintyre absolutely nails what is heard on record but she does this while giving it her all. It quite honesty is hard to look away from the enthusiasm, the energy and conviction with which she performs.

But look away I did and credit must be given to the rest of the band. Full of ideas and innovation, I could namecheck the likes of Norma Jean, The Dillinger Escape Plan (in their softer moments...) or the angular riffs of Biffy Clyro's pre-Puzzle purple patch and not be far off what they do. This band has ideas to burn and it's refreshing to hear. The more straightforward 'Is It Horrible', probably their weakest song, recalls the likes of Arctic Monkeys (but without being dull as fuck) in terms of chord progression and vocal melody.

Single 'Captivate You' is a brilliantly positive anthemic tune, with which the audience gleefully participates. 'Particle' and 'Vibetech' showcase their heavier, more experimental side with riff after jarring riff and unpredictable time signatures, punctuated by glorious, soaring choruses. 'Hit The Wave' and 'Born Young and Free' are as inventive as they are uplifting. They play slower tune and album closer 'Back To You' and come agonisingly close to nailing its brilliant crescendo, stopped only by a rare bum note from Macintyre and the evening's only moment of muddy sound, which was largely excellent throughout.

If there's a criticism it's that their youth and naivete is telling at times, with the occasional clunky lyric and a few moments where some band members seem a little nervous. This, however, has the effect of making the band's stage banter endearingly grateful and wide-eyed. At one point, Becca Macintyre struggles to find the words and settles on: “This is just... stupid. We've never had this many people come to see us on a tour before.” Her guitarist brother is somewhat more blunt with “I just fucking... bloody love people. I bet there's not a single cunt in this room!” (cue everybody pointing at their best friend). It's nice to see a band genuinely appreciate the support they get and long may it continue.

They close with a brilliant 'Why Do You Hate Me', the band giving it their all and leaving the stage with promises of a swift return, a 2^nd album and some nice group hugging. Nick is suitably impressed and I'm suitably reassured of what I already suspected: these guys are the real deal.

We leave The Riverside to what is officially the best view one can have while leaving a venue; that of Newcastle's bridges lit for the night. One of our friends expresses a fear that a record company exec will soon get hold of them, homogenise their sound into something more chart-friendly and make Becca a make-up drenched focal point (the rest of the band reduced to the equivalent of those out-of-focus guys from Almost Famous). We all hope that doesn't happen. It would be a shame after what I saw tonight; this is a band doing their own thing, doing it with passion and enthusiasm and doing it really bloody well. I'm pretty sure that what I saw tonight was the future, and the future is weird and wonderful.

Where's My Elvis? 

Part 2 - "Scream for me, Donnington!"

Part 1 - hopefully but unfortunately - was quite a depressing read.  The depressing thing, is that a blog about the biggest bands in rock really should not be a depressing read.  For somebody like me, it should be inspiring and fill the reader with the anticipation of seeing that band play that song and for you going absolutely crazy when they do.  Alas, we find ourselves in a situation where increasing age and decreasing quality are robbing us of the rock stars of the future and my question is: who will be their replacements?  Maiden and Metallica aren't going to be around forever and I think only Biffy Clyro, Linkin Park, Rammstein, Slipknot and Foo Fighters really passed my litmus test of who are the main bands to get excited about, and none of them are exactly new. Only Biffy really turn out anything fresh and exciting.

 I don't really want to get into the reasons for this perceived decline, but I'll try to briefly go through my opinions on the matter.  Nobody is selling quite enough to get them up there and I can put my finger on two root causes for the dearth of headline acts coming through right now: firstly, the industry has changed and continues to change.  Kids get singles rather than albums, they stream rather than buy (downloading hasn't helped...) and there seems to be a general shortening of the attention span required for a huge band to stay huge.  A band gets a hit these days and rockets up the bill.  If the next hit doesn't come, the interest wanes.  Secondly, the last big wave that came through heavy music, nu-metal, hasn't exactly left us with the same legacy as the 70s (Kiss, Aerosmith, Sabbath) or even the 80s (Maiden, Metallica, G'n'R).  Of the big Seattle bands of the 90s (and their coattail riders, Smashing Pumpkins, Stone temple Pilots, et al), only Pearl Jam really have the pulling power to bring the crowds. Of the nu-metal explosion, Korn and Deftones never really got to festival headliner status, Limp Bizkit are now a nostalgia band, leaving arguably Linkin Park and Slipknot.  

But what has followed?  The wave of emo bands of the early to mid 2000s gave you, ahem, Fall Out Boy, who I suppose are contenders on sales alone (ditto Nickelback...) and My Chemical Romance, who rightly split up and left us alone,  Finally, much as I love Jimmy Eat World, I can't see Jimmy Adkins commanding "scream for me Donnington!" to a drunk crowd on Saturday night of a festival.

Rather than getting bogged down in scenes and genres, I want to go through a few contenders and their relative merits, starting with the bands most likely to succeed.  Machine Head have been churning out quality for years.  A mid-career lull (rapping, silly haircuts, tracksuits, the 'Supercharger' album) seems firmly banished to the past and their last 4 albums have been quality indeed; they have their own sound, Robb Flynn can write an anthem and can sing - which is important as I doubt a screamer is ever going to replace Bruce Dickinson at the top.  However they've been doing this for a long while now (1994 and counting) and I doubt enough new fans are going to jump onto their particular wagon to propel them higher than they are now.  I would dearly love to be proved wrong.  

I gave up on Avenged Sevenfold some years ago but I might have been wrong to do so.  Striking a balance between the OTT anthems of Iron Maiden and the gutter snarl of G'n'R, they have talent in abundance but I think many rock fans find it hard to take a band wearing eyeliner seriously and M. Shadows' nasal whine can grate.  They are prone to the odd embarrassing ballad and I think need to release a classic before many fans take notice.  Ditto Bullet For My Valentine: all the potential in the world but at times unfocused samey.  A classic album is needed.  And so to Trivium; a band who frustrate me so much I've began a sentence with a conjunction.  This band is good enough to be producing modern thrash metal classics, and had the attention of the metal world at one point, but three fussy albums in a row have left me scratching my head.  They really dearly need a better lyricist, too.  Lamb Of God would be my pick here.  Although they're getting on and Randy Blythe's recent legal wrangles have cost them momentum.  Maybe a bit too heavy to headline, but a talented band with attitude and songs.

Nine Inch Nails, Korn, Soundgarden and  Alice In Chains have the advantage of previous success but have never really made the jump.  Having seen Korn and NIN live recently, I can testify that these bands not only have better back catalogues than people remember, but put on impressive live shows.  They are rock stars with talent and attitude.  Queens Of The Stone Age are nearly there but it seems they always will be.  Their shows are frustrating: for every killer single, you have to sit through at least 2 ponderous album tracks, which gives you time to visit the bar. Glastonbury and Reading perennially await...

Moving in a different direction, it would be churlish to ignore 30 Seconds To Mars because of nothing more than their inherent blandness.  People love them and I don't really know them well enough to dismiss them entirely.  Bring Me The Horizon are making waves right now and rightly so.  Previously, an unintentionally hilarious mess, but they have learned to sing and slowed down a bit.  Sempiternal is a great record and they have a growing fan base.  Keep it up, lads!

A Day To Remember and All Time Low annoy the piss out of me so I'll move right along until their fans outgrow how juvenile they are...

I'm going to ramp up the self indulgence a notch here and go through the bands I would like to see, however unlikely it may be:

Mastodon - great band who need to rediscover their live touch.  If they can strike a balance between early hardcore, mid-period prog and recent anthemic rock, they could be heroes.  They also need one of their singers to step up and be a commanding frontman.

Killswitch Engage - a talented band who needed a kick and got one.  A couple of ropey albums in a row dented their momentum while Adam D's bizarre stage presence and singer Howard Jones' lack thereof made them a tight but polite live act.  Jesse Leech's return on vocals and a much improved return album should have kicked them on but give them time.

Enter Shikari - a band  hated and then grew to admire and enjoy. I thought the dance-rock thing was a bit of a cliche and being a Pitchshifter fan, nothing really new.  But they have some great songs, put on a great show and seem to be growing in popularity.  And band that can make you aware of climate change while you are moshing deserve respect.

Ok, time for some complete outsiders, who are nowhere near the level required... but one can hope.

Black Spiders - The most fun band on this list after Iron Maiden, these guys know exactly where they came from but do so much more than a pastiche of their heroes.  Bonkers 3-guitar line up? Yes. Soaring lead vocals? You bet. Foot-on-the-monitor anthems? Absolutely.  I would dearly love to see these guys own the Download festival.

Clutch - Several albums under their belt, a charismatic and talented singer and all the riffs under the sun, nobody does it like Clutch.  In terms of working for it and deserving it, this should be the new go-to band to top the bill.  Alas, they aren't exactly rock stars and don't exactly sell arenas right now.

Lower Than Atlantis - The longest of my long shots, they have a long way to go before they reach the top but they have all the tools they need.  A great songwriter, the knack for a hook and tunes that ear-worm you for days.  These guys should be the UK's own Foo Fighters, only singer Mike Duce's lyrics aren't as frustratingly vague as Dave Grohl's.  Come on, England - make this happen!

And finally...

Ginger/The Wildhearts - Rock star attitude, riffs galore and all the songs! Ginger is simply the best songwriter I've encountered since I started paying attention and if 'I Wanna Go Where The People Go' never closes a festival then the world will be a sad place indeed.

Ok, so I've gone on a bit, but I care about this stuff.  Somebody needs to grab rock and roll by the scruff of the neck and/or balls and drag it into this century.  It;s only a matter of time until James Hetfield's wrists give up on him and I'd hate to think that nobody was waiting in the wings to rite the next 'Enter Sandman'.  Say your prayers, little ones - we need somebody.

Where's My Elvis?
Part 1 - Burning out and fading away?

Since I was about 13 years old, I've been into metal.  I'm not ashamed (although I probably should be) that it started with Bon Jovi and progressed from there.  A chance playing of Nirvana's Nevermind on the bus and some kid in school lending me a copy of Megadeth's Youthanasia album set me off in a heavier direction and I never looked back but therein lies an important facet of my fascination with heavy music; the bands I started with were already big.  Huge, even.  Like and genre, rock music needs its big hitters, big sellers and headline acts (I write this days after seeing Slipknot play a packed Newcastle Arena) and I think it's fair to say that people are more likely to be attracted to a genre by hearing its biggest exponents than an obscure band that haven't sold many records.  You're more likely to hear and be blown away by Black Sabbath than you are by Reverend Bizarre or Solace.

Metal is an odd creature; since the early 1970s the biggest bands have sold millions of records, from Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple through to Iron Maiden, Metallica and more recently Soundgarden and Pearl Jam.  Yet despite this, rock remains firmly apart from the mainstream.  Yes, the biggest bands get hits and occasional plays on Radio 1 in the afternon; hell, The Offspring even got a number 1 single with a naff novelty song.  But how many of the people who got that song to number one went and bought the album? Or bought the next album, or their back catalogue?  Iron Maiden had a number one single, but you'd be pushing it to call them a mainstream band.

So what I'm looking for here is the new rock giants.  Who is going to inherit the throne?  Well, first of all, who has the throne right now?  To define my terms, I'm looking at a band who could headline a  rock festival. And by 'Rock Festival', I don't mean one where Radiohead and Coldplay take turns year after year; I mean a real rock festival, with mosh pits and headbanging and where Chris Martin isn't invited.

It's telling that this year there will be no Sonisphere Festival in England.  A lack of suitable headliners is the given reason and that to me, is a very sad state of affairs.  Here's a brief list of who I would consider suitable rock festival headliners:

Iron Maiden
Metallica
Foo Fighters
Green Day
Red Hot Chilli Peppers
Kiss
Slipknot
Faith No More
Rage Against The Machine
System Of A Down
Black Sabbath
Pearl Jam
Guns & Roses
Aerosmith
Muse
Queen
AC/DC
The Offspring
Blink 182
Biffy Clyro
Rammstein
Linkin Park
Tool

Pretty formidable list, right?  Well, I agree but let's break it down. In terms of sales, you can probably add Nickelback but you wouldn't take them very seriously, would you?  They wouldn't get all the way onstage before being hit by a barrage of piss bottles.  Seriously, though this list isn't as good as it seems when you consider things like age and recent output.

Of these, I count 8 of them in what you would call the twilight of their careers (Maiden, Metallica, Green Day, RHCP, Pearl Jam, Aerosmith, AC/DC, The Offspring), in terms of age or quality of output.  I count a further 8 that have broken up and reformed, probably quite cynically in some cases, and are unlikely to reclaim their past glories (Kiss, FNM, RATM, SOAD, Sabbath, G&R, Queen, Blink 182).  Arguably a couple of them are on the wrong list here anyway (sorry, Muse, Pearl Jam, Offspring, Blink, Biffy) and better suited to what you might call an alternative festival (Reading/Leeds or Glastonbury).  That pretty much leaves you with Tool, Linkin Park, Rammstein, Slipknot and Foo Fighters, none of whom are exactly spring chickens.  I suppose I'm being generous including Foos in this as they aren't exactly headbanger material but say what you like about them, they put on a great rock show.  Slipknot are back from tragedy and personal problems and on the crest of a wave right now, but there do appear to be some interpersonal issues in the band, most of whom are now the wrong side of 40.  How long they stick around is up for debate.  Much of the same can be said for Rammstein, whose musical output has barely altered one bit since they formed, and let's face it, it wasn't too thrilling to begin with. Linkin Park, whose popularity baffles me, remain a big attraction despite the law of diminishing returns hitting them hard.  Apparently they still have a rapper in the band...  And has anyone heard from Tool lately?

Maiden and Metallica are arguably the mainstays of the UK rock festival and therein lies the problem.  I fucking love Iron Maiden, although in a semi-ironic way.  Maiden have churned out largely the same material since Bruce Dickinson joined in 1982.  Granted they started doing it a bit better when Bruce rejoined them in the early 2000s, but essentially it hasn't changed much.  The cool thing about Maiden is that they do it with such conviction that it's hard not to enjoy.  The bad thing about Maiden is that given the quality of their recent output, they break no new ground and are trading on past glories, probably  until they retire, which likely won't be long.

Metallica are one of my favourites; this is a band that matters to me and unlike Maiden, their last album was fresh and thrilling to my ears.  However that was 6 and a half years ago and there is no sign of a new one.  They tour, but people who have seen them recently don't speak highly of their live prowess.  By their own admission, decades of playing fast and aggressive music has taken a toll on them and it seems like they can't quite cut it any longer.  It's sad to say but if there's even the slightest error with a song like 'Battery' or 'Dyer's Eve' then it's going to stick out like a snare drum on St. Anger.

Considering the most viable of the others, would your average metal head rush to buy tickets to see Pearl Jam? Certainly I would but one wouldn't place them beside Iron Maiden on a bill (although Pearl Jam themselves would likely love it).  Download have booked Muse to headline this year's show (which is the only reason they made the above list).  Much as I like them, I wouldn't get excited about seeing hem headline a rock festival.

Several of these bands should probably have been put to pasture long ago.  It's sad to think of Axl Rose and a group of session musicians stumbling through 'Sweet Child O' Mine' or Gene Simmons trying to get his grease paint in between the wrinkles.  How much longer can Steve Perry and Joe Perry flog the dying Aerosmith horse? Can anybody really say that the Chillis are the band they were even 5 years ago?

Sadly, illness is likely to get the better of AC/DC and Sabbath sooner rather than later but let's face it, are they even pale shadows of the bands they once were?  For the bulk of the above bands, the main reason you'd go to enjoy them would be for nostalgia; to get to see 'Run To The Hills', 'Paranoid', 'Detroit Rock City' or even 'Killing In The Name' played live.  The most recent of those songs was written 24 years ago.

Now I'm not writing this to be mean to the bands that I love; I'm writing this as a reminder of the state of affairs we find ourselves presented with: out massive bands are becoming less massive, our headliners are dying off, our rock legends are becoming less and less legendary by the year.  The thought of Ozzy commanding a crowd to 'Go crazy' from a wheelchair is a sad one but one that is not too far from reality.

So I leave you with one question. A question inspired by true rock legends, a revolutionary and inspirational band, and one that unfortunately should have retired many years ago: who's next?

Korn / Slipknot

Newcastle Arena, 19/12/15

I'm 34 years of age and I really should know better.  There's no justification for it. I can't reconcile my enjoyment of this, considering my age and status as a gainfully employed adult with a degree in... something or other (I don't really remember what).  Using any criteria I can think of, I really should not enjoy Slipknot as much as I do. I'm too old, too sensible, too reserved. They wear freakin' masks and boiler suits, they have at least two drummers more than it's sensible to have, and at least one member whose function in the band is ambiguous at best (Craig Jones, who plays 'samples' ).  I was probably too old for this when they released their first full album in 1999, and I was only 18 back then.  So considering all that, why was this show so much fun?  I'll try to explain.

This being the first of my reviews to find a home on a new blog site, it seemed appropriate to be the first gig with a new co-conspirator.  At this point, I should also mention that the spell check function on this blog site doesn't recognise the word 'blog', which I find quite funny. Having been generously given two tickets for this show for my birthday, I was counting the days between then (8th of December - mark your diaries!) and now.  Finding a like-minded person from work to go with, we took on board a few drinks before heading to the arena, our excitement only slightly stifled by the frankly Baltic conditions outside.

Newcastle Arena is a horrible venue, as are most venues of this type.  It's impossible to get a good feeling for a place made from breeze blocks and designed with ice hockey in mind but such lack of intimacy is the price of success, I suppose,  The more people that like you, the further away from them you have to be when you perform.  The ironic thing (more so than the blog thing I mentioned earlier) is that I actually love arena rock, despite not being a fan of arenas.  There are, for me, few more exhilarating experiences than a foot-on-the-monitor anthem being belted out to thousands of screaming fans.

Finding out late in the day that there was an opening band, we decided that we liked beer more than we cared about seeing King 810 so I have nothing to say about them.  Beer, on the other hand is still lovely, I am happy to report.  So we arrived and were delivered straight into the hands of some pretty intrusive security guards, checking for such dangerous items as knives and cameras. Following the complex signs to our seats, we found that Korn had already started.

Korn are a tricky one for me.  I honestly wasn't too bothered about seeing them; having been a huge fan in my youth I was convinced that the law of diminishing returns had turned them into a sad shadow of a once-trailblazing band.  They churn out a lot of albums (11 and counting) but I haven't been tempted to buy or listen to one since 2002's Untouchables and the crushing disappointment that came with listening to it.  Even the return of founding guitar player Brian 'Head' Welch, didn't really turn my head.  I am, however, happy to report that they have become a formidable live band,  Even given the Arena's notoriously poor sound quality, they sound clear as a bell and look like a band full of vigour.

We walk in during 'Falling Away From Me', which sounds immense and is followed quickly by 'Good God', which teleports me back to 1997.  I notice from my lofty view that about 4 circle pits have kicked off and that the stage has been set up with an underlit disco floor.  The rest of the set is a wise mix of some newer tunes ('Hater') and old nu-metal standards, including 'Shoots and Ladders' which sounds fresh and energetic and ends with a bizarre segue into the fast bit from Metallica's 'One'.  Jonathan Davis, a fine frontman with a surprisingly good voice and a unique, almost campy manner on stage, finally addresses the crowd with the fair observation that many of the people here weren't born when set closer 'Blind' was released.  I was 14 and immediately hooked at the time.  It's played today with a ferocity and energy which surprises and impresses me.  Slipknot are going to have their work cut out.

A huge curtain blocks the stage while 'XIX' plays as an intro.  The stage is revealed and the band launch into new track 'Scarcastrophe'.  The experience of seeing this happen is impressive, and a little overwhelming.  With more run-of-the-mill bands, one's eye is normally drawn to the singer, however at a Slipknot gig all bets are off.  In case you don't already know, there are 9 members and they line up onstage as follows: drummer, bass player and twin guitar players take centre stage alongside singer and more recognisable member (when unmasked) Corey Taylor.  Either side of the drummer (whose identity is not 100% clear after the strange sacking of the talented Joey Jordison) and atop hydraulic pedestals stand DJ Sid Wilson and, er, sample/keyboard player Craig Jones.  At the front of the stage, left and right, are the custom drumkits.  Their incumbents, Chris Fehn and founder member Shawn Crahan batter the crap out of huge drums and beer kegs, occasionally providing backing vocals and just generally fucking about.  They make themselves seem more important to the band than you'd imagine.  It's a lot to take in but it is bloody impressive.

The stage set up is impressive, with a deliberately shabby looking lighting array bordering ramps, platforms and pyro jets.  The custom drumkits rise about 20 feet above the stage and spin around while the drummers hang from them, Sid Wilson wanders about in a vaguely retarded manner not unlike Joe Wilkinson from Eight Out Of Ten Cats, before busting into life and going back to actually play his turntables when he's needed.  The band rarely stay still for long and the energy is infectious, the crowd responding with headbanging  and circle pits aplenty.  

None of this would matter, though, if the band couldn't back it up with quality.  Having been plugging away at this 18-legged freakshow since the late 1990s, selling 20 million albums on the way, Slipknot have by now accumulated one or two hits.  Belting out 'Psychosocial', 'Vermillion' (a personal highlight) and a pounding 'Before I Forget' among impressive album tracks like '(sic)' and 'Three Nil', their set is incredible.  They play new singles 'The Negative One' and 'The Devil In I' (I know, I know...) and an unhinged 'Custer' as well as an obligatory, brutal rendition of 'Duality' before they bugger off.  Their set has been everything a Slipknot fan would want - hits, riffs, screams - and it has been played impeccably.  The band is tight, even the extra drummers never missing a beat and despite the apparent chaos, it is clear that this is a well oiled machine with Corey Taylor as the ferocious mouthpiece.

Their encore, ending with signature tune 'Surfacing' to finish things off nicely, leaves us with words like 'unreal', 'incredible' and the realisation that nobody else does what they do.  Stadium rock with added brutality, mainstream metal with the occasional blast beat, singalong songs with death metal screams.  So who do I like Slipknot at my age? Because nobody else does this.  The biggest rock bands have always had a touch of the theatrical about them and with Slipknot, it's not so much a touch as it is a headbutt from a man in a clown mask.  It makes me feel like I'm 18 again and I loved every second.  Screw ice hockey, this is why they build arenas.

A couple of years back I started arranging my music on Itunes in chronological order. Any album release is placed in a playlist for that year, regardless of artist or genre. It has certain advantages but can have the not-altogether-bad effect of really messing with your head.  For example, this year I find myself faced with following the Foo Fighters' stadium rock-by-numbers with the black metal stylings of Winterfylleth.  Which can be quite jarring on your walk to work in the morning.

I could, of course, skip tracks that didn't naturally follow one another but where would be the fun in that?  I find that it forces me to listen to some of the stuff I didn't like quite as much and not just listen  to the safe stuff.

So I thought, given the variety of albums I've managed to digest over the last year, that I'd try to pick some favourites.

5) Comeback Kid - Die Knowing

I didn't really know these guys before this year.  On the strength of good reviews I decided to give it a go and it's proved to be one of the more enjoyable albums I bought.  Think a more straightforward Ever Time I Die, or Cancer Bats without the groove, they are ostensibly a hardcore band with shades of metal.  The vocals are rough, almost screamed, but not so much that you can't hear the lyrics.  Strong songs and a variety of tempos throughout, this is an odd thing; a catchy hardcore album.

4) Hark - Crystalline

I was probably one of about 15 people (including the band) who were disappointed when Welsh riff machine Taint called it a day a few years back.  They produced the kind of down-tuned sludgy grooves that Mastodon used to before they discovered acid, and they were really good at it.  So when I found out completely by accident that Taint frontman Jim Isaac had a new band, I was probably one of about 7 people (including the band) to be excited by it.  And their album picked up where Taint left off; the grooves are huge, the riffs are monumental and the slow parts sound like Black Sabbath in an earthquake.  Long may this continue.

3) Mongol Horde - Mongol Horde

I'm not a fan of Frank Turner.  I liked him better when he was in Million Dead. I know talent when I hear it and I could tell he was a great lyricist and an intelligent man with something to say but his solo stuff, popular as it is, just feels contrived to me.  And a lot of the fans seem to be hipster douchebags who spend a lot of time in coffee shops (totally unfair criticism, I know. Objection upheld.) When the prolific Turner released Mongol Horde this year, strong reviews and some online samples prompted a sceptical purchase that I didn't regret.  Full of punk fury but presented through the prism of a sussed world view, Mongol Horde melds posthardcore riffs to passionate and fantastical yarn spinning. Songs like 'Hey Judas' and 'Tapeworm Uprising' are utterly mental but prove that there's a finger on the pulse at the same time.

2) Lower Than Atlantis - Lower Than Atlantis

This one had to grow on me.  I rally admire that; when I first heard this record, I was quite disappointed by it, but now I can't seem to get the songs out of my head.  Having really enjoyed their previous album, I was gutted to hear what sounded suspiciously like selling out.  It was all very straightforward, the guitars weren't prominent in the mix and at least one of the songs ('Emily') sounded like boy band fodder.  However... I found myself thoroughly earwormed by at least half of the album and I've given it a deserved second chance.  So they've moved away from the Foos-like buzzsaw guitars they used to use and they've made a straight up pop record.  But they haven't done it in a shit way (like Twin Atlantic did).  They lyrics, veering between nerdy confessional and tongue-in-cheek arrogance are sublime meaning the offending 'Emily' single, is a lot cleverer than any boy band machine could churn out.  For proof of quality, try listening to 'English Kids In America' and then not humming it afterwards.  These guys deserve everything that comes to them; they've been brave and earned it.

1) Marmozets - The Weird and Wonderful Marmozets

An early morning, bleary-eyed flick through Kerrang! tv introduced me to this band via a music video.  The song, 'Why Do You Hate Me?' stood out for two reasons: firstly, the angular jarring riffs were something one wouldn't normally expect to see sandwiched between Good Charlotte and Fall Out Boy and woke me up more than my cuppa did; and secondly, that voice.  The Bingley quintet, fronted by Becca Macintyre sounded unlike anything I'd heard in a while and the album turned out to be just as thrilling as that video.  The music, featuring shades of Biffy Clyro, Hundred Reasons and even flashes of The Dillinger Escape Plan's softer moments served as a heavy, innovative base for a soaring voice filled with passion and topped with a fine vibrato. It's catchy, it's powerful and it's so different to anything else I've heard this year. Singles 'Captivate You' and 'Move, Shake, Hide' show the variety in their music and the album is well paced throughout, with ballads like 'Cry' and stormers like 'Particle' keeping you guessing before stunning closer 'Back To You' really allows Macintyre to shine. They're weird, they're wonderful; these guys have talent to burn and deserve big things.