Ten Benson @ Joseph's Well
By Noah BrownIt's Monday night. And people have left their warm cosy houses, braved the elements and piled down the Well for a sloppy, dirty, nasty sludge-rock extravaganza! In fairly healthy numbers, too! A damn fine start to proceedings methinks...
Firstly though, an apology. Apparently there was a band on before the Pistol Apostles. Now, I didn't see them and I don't know who they are because a) I am a very slack reviewer, b) I can't do early and c) your correspondent is a busy lil' bitch. Now, I am v. sorry for this - I know how it sucks to be first band on the bill, get ignored and not get your rightful props. And I, little twat that I am, have just added to the problem. So feel free to write to LMS and cuss me out like a good 'un if you're the band concerned...
This the second time I've seen the aforementioned Apostles and I'm happy to report they are kicking healthy amounts of ass in a guttural, unpretentious manner. They've tightened up just enough (not too much, coz that'd be ANAL) and frontman's voice could strip paint. He is going to hurt himself with his bawling, he bawls harder than last time I saw 'em. And out of interest, my female companion for the evening (who for reasons of modesty wishes to remain nameless) would quite like to bone him. She's gonna kick my head in. Ha!
Tonight's line-up is kind of perfect really. Start 'em off with raw yet palatable stompin' blues, hit 'em with Stooges-meets-Motorhead blam-blam-blam, then finish 'em off with pure behemoth primal riff power, in string vests. The middle ones I'm referring to are Sludgefeast. They are just fucking ridiculous. Distortion as MOTHER. The head honcho James has proper out-of-order hair, which I must admit I covet. It's massive. His between song banter is charged and nearly incomprehensible, but revolves round ROCKIN', being/getting FUCKED UP, and VIDEO GAMES. This is Sludgefeast's arsenal, and by Christ it's all they need. Ramones school of set composition, bang-bang-bang and OUT. Fuzzy, catchy and obnoxious. The King Of The Arcades...don't even FRONT!
Ten Benson handle the stage with the poise of elder rock statesmen, almost. The confidence within their unit is PALPABLE, dammit. They are all wearing "distressed-look" trucker caps, fuckin' loads of tats and string vests. They even have a keyboard, which to be honest you can only really hear in one song. But it's safe to say, ELO this ain't. Whereas the 'Feast do their biz fast and furious, TB take the tempo down a notch or two so you can feel the heaviosity. "Robot Tourist" is marvellous, as is the anthemic "Tits". This is crowd pleasing shit, AC/DC meets Sabbath without any of the gay irony that some modern-day primal metal feels obliged to include. Weakest point is the encore, which is still OK but after the riff assault we've just been shimmying to feels a bit lacking. But really, that's pretty good praise, dontcha think? We'll let you get away with a "pedestrian encore" dudes...
Tonight was all about the power of the riff. The youth (and near-youth...) were unified in respect and praise for The Riff. Bow down, beeyatches.
