The Playmates
Live at Joseph's Well on Sunday, 17th April 2005
This review of the Transmission Weekender starts here, on the Friday.
I arrive on Sunday, just in time to see an half arsed attempt at guitar destruction at the end of Tract's set - break it and torch it boy! As I read Locus of Control's name from the poster, I can't help thinking that an extra "t" in the name would be top. Anyway, it's ear-shredding, heavy on treble guitar and full of metal mayhem goodness from South Wales. Amen to that. As an increasing crowd watches with gobs open, I ponder what actually goes on in Napoleon IIIrd's mind when he writes. Why is this Dave, the bored among you may ask, well I'll tell you. It's a backward trombone splurge through the Beach Boys, St Pepper, and the Flaming Lips, backing tapes enhanced with butchered and rebuilt acoustic guitar, with spoon for pickup, and strobe inside the sound box. Bloody and indeed hell. Any questions so far? After this, Antihero are a bit of a disappointment for me - their tunes are rocking and hook packed, but the subject material and the gob on the singer's face make me want to go and kick him up the arse, metaphorically speaking of course. Thank fuck then for festival closers The Playmates. Songs about shagging, losing your virginity to Jackie Wright from Grange Hill and the vagaries of the pop world, industry wise, along with lashings of swearing and banter with the crowd. Guessed whose band yet? Ah yes, ex-les Flames! short arse gob shite Mr Neil is back along with fellow ex Flammer Pushkin hitting the skins (arf), Ali Valium on bass and Benbo Brown on guitar. It's a right royal Sham 69/Dead Kennedys oi oi oi singalong a swear word chuckle-a-thon and a splendid way to end a festival. The Transmission team have done us proud...
