Live

Rip It Up, Issue 88, 1 November 1984, Page 42

Live

Wilko Johnson & the Blues All Stars Gluepot, November 1 So wild-eyed Wilko was back, on his own this time. I think most of the people present would gladly have paid their money to see Wilko play but, whether you wanted them or not, you got the All Stars. I contrived to miss most of the All Stars’ set; I understand it was business as usual. Anyway, bad news first: the Gluepot Syndrome was particularly in evidence this night and I cant believe anyone could countenance standing behind the partition if they actually wanted to hear the band from the bar the music was so much bassy nonsense. Still, you pays yer money ... Wilko played with Dennis Ryan and Neil Edwards, the All Stars rhythm section. The pair did well enough, even though after only three practises it could only be blues-by-numbers rather than pub style R&B.

Everyone wants to see Wilko charge around the stage, see those eyes bulge and he didn’t disappoint. But when by default he had to be the sole object of attention there was an element of sideshow about it all see Wilko do his tricks! Given that he's not a great singer, it was too much to expect a single guitarist to hold it all up on his own. But now the good news! Wilko Johnson reminded us that he is a Bloody Great Rhythm 'n' Booze Guitarist. He cracked out rapidfire chords like a man with bionic wrists. Electric! And sweat! “He’s okay within what he does,” sniffed a blues buff. “But he doesn't do much lead work, does he?" Me, I think he's smart. He knows it’s gonna be best if he does what comes easiest. He owns the Wilko Johnson style of guitar playing and he always will. And when everyone came back on stage for the inevitable final jam, it was Wilko that brought it above the ordinary, stabbing in a little wakeup every time he opened up. Yes, he’s an original indeed. Russell Brown Car Crash Set Windsor, October 24 Life's hard. Just when you get all

the machines under control, you find that things are getting laboured and just when you loosen up and start having a good time, your credibility slips through your fingers. Car Crash Set pick the best of both; the band have the time of their lives and Nigel Russell complains. Everyone dances and everyone’s miserable. Maybe things aren't that complicated after all. Okay, so much for cynicism. Car Crash Set have penned and performed three of the best ever; ’Those Days’, ‘Work’ and Breakdown’, the latter mixed live to a size way beyond vinyl. Given the remainder, the new album will be a box of goodies and rewards appropriate to the huge effort they put in to what they do. And what they do, namely grind through a sweating live set of chic industrial dance, they do very well, far surpassing their efforts in the studio. The only question is why Nigel Russell, with such a good band behind him, is still singing lyrics from old New Order songs. Maybe he just can’t resist the... Chad Taylor Soul On Ice Zanzibar, Oct 4. “Polished" is not a term that usually augers well for a "soul”

band. Polished means getting everything just right, even to the point of filing down the rough edges, losing the feel, the emotional contact, the "soulfulness” that the best music of the form has. Soul On Ice are polished, very polished, but they still have the feel. Opening with dancers who got the crowd clapping and cheering, Soul On Ice came on to play an almost entirely original set, stopping to cover only two songs, the Jacksons’ ’Walk Right Back’ and ’Take Your Time (Do It Right)’ by the SOS Band. A great funky bass player and an amazingly successful single trumpet player expanded the range of the songs with the help of two very professional backup vocalists. The lead vocalist has a fine voice but needs to break out of a somewhat limited delivery that sometimes bordered on monotony. Still, she did deliver one of the few successful exhortations to dance that I’ve ever seen. Just ask anyone who was there that night. This band is bloody good and they put on a damn fine show. Barry Morris Ra and the Pyramids Cricketers, October 5 Ra and the Pyramids pay homage to the soul greats. And they're faithful. This isn’t the fulltilt treatment of the Jive Bombers, it’s a more subtle sound and style. Ra is every bit the showman and he’s got a resonant voice that carries well the works of Al Green, Smokey Robinson or Sam and Dave. The Pyramids feature a fine horn section and contain voices male and female which harmonise with Ra. Search these guys out. They’re a little known (as yet) soul treat. David Taylor Human Lawnmowers, Ward 13, Worst Kind Of Art Snob Left Bank Theatre, Hamilton, Nov 10. Ward 13 made a promising debut in the stark confines of Hamilton’s Left Bank Theatre. On the whole their musicianship was of good standard and the only irritating aspect was the vocalist’s lapses into a low, monotonal drone. He also demonstrated his promising reading ability by singing the lyrics of nearly half the songs off sheets of paper. Their 11 song set had some less pleasant or inspiring moments, but there were high spots, in particular their closing number ‘Winter’, which ended Ward 13’s performance on a strong note. Between the two bands, poetry was provided by the Worst Kind of Art Snob, who, in a dazzling impersonation of a blind cripple in an old white wheelchair, reeled off a few lines backed by double bass and a slide show of the great cities of Europe. Last on, the Human Lawnmowers received a tremendous reaction from the small crowd as they raced through a tight but enjoyable set, full of variety and spirit. Highlights were ‘Fading Light) the slow-building 'Ghost Song' and the finale, an excellent version of ’White Light, White Heat’. Behind them flashed slides of everyone’s favourite politicians, Ronnie and Rob, and assorted items including Marilyn Monroe, massacred Jews and Springbok tour riots. But as lead singer Joe Flynn said, all they had to do was play, because in the words of Ward 13’s ’Winter’: “Oh Hamilton, you really are so boring.” Paul McKessar Tan Zen Jungle Zanzibar (ChCh), Nov 2 For once our timing was perfect. The band hadnt even started when we got there. The lightweight funk that was the Triffids might have been expected to resurface but to bassist Mark Howe's credit this was to be an exercise in moving from the widely accepted, relatively orthodox beginnings of his first band to the slightly un-orthodox and considerably more evasive rhythms shown here. Perhaps the other pleasing factor was the huge scope with which they have given themselves to work. That is to say the debut of Tan Zen Jungle was far from perfect, but there is so much they can do by way of improvements and additions that a nearcompleted project will only want to be on the awkward side of perfection for everybody’s comfort and approval. You have all seen/heard bands that are held together by their rhythm section— well thafe never been truer than with this band. That is, of course, the whole idea, but Howe's wonderful bass playing

is, maybe, without equal and when combined with Craig Guerney’s drumming it is really how a bass and drums should sound. William Stewart contributes some ideal guitar playing but it is really only offered as garnishing. The vocals and trumpet of Simon Claridge are an uneasy combination, with lyrics almost nonexistent. He is probably saying as much when he plays that trumpet. His frustrated little dance once again proves that Tony Drumm has a LOT to answer for but hell, if that’s all I’ve got to complain about ... and it’s pronounced “Tarn" Alister Cain