Metalking: RICHARLES BRONSON / RIOJIM + PAUL ABBOTT / SEYMOUR WRIGHT / ROSS LAMBERT - Cafe Oto 03/04/10

Fuck knows.

Someone did some stuff on film, letting the projector burn through the film, that sort of thing. It was alright I guess. I don't remember the rest. I might not even have seen anyone else actually.

What a review. Possibly a new low that one.

Brotzman/Edwards/Noble - Cafe Oto 29/1/10

Brotzman fucking ripped it, Edwards was his usual awesome-on-the-bass self and Steve Noble looks like he carries a knife. They also had a dude on piano who I didn't know but who was excellent and the best bit of the whole night was when Brotzman wasn't even playing and the other three were all freaking out, just fully freaking out and all stopped suddenly all three of them without looking at each other or anything, just stopped perfectly together. It was fucking magic. Jazz magic. Jazz fucking magic. No lie.

Night of the Long Worms - Cafe Oto 19/11/09

I don't even remember who played at this night now. I can always look it up on google. Yep, here you go:

Baraclough, Philip Jeck, Bruce Gilbert, Simon Fisher Turner, Leif Elggren, Souls On Board, Meltaot and Joachim Nordwall

I remember Simon Fisher Turner was entertaining on two pianos, Baraclough were notable for having a member who used to work as a runner at the place I used to work at (big fucking deal eh) and Philip Jeck played a set nobody realised was being played until half way through because he was at the back of the room tucked away and it sounded like nothing was going on. I think that was Philip Jeck. Anyway, I missed Leif Elggren and was annoyed. Oh and one of the acts was really bad and I think it was Meltaot.

Opinions.

Ruins Alone/Alex Ward and Alan Wilkinson - Cafe Oto 09/08/09

Well this was so damn good now where do I start? Well where did they start? Alex Ward and Alan Wilkinson pick up their clarinet and sax respectively and immediately fill Cafe Oto with an intense scream that has no business being made by just two men and a couple of tubes with holes. And it doesn't let off for the length of their first piece, even when both guys decapitate their instruments and get to playing little chirps with the severed mouthpieces, it's all done with such relentless energy that it manages to sound fierce and like a delicate dawn chorus all at once. Impossible! But No! Wilkinson was playing the sax with his leg at one point. Leg saxaphone, no shit. They enter into their second piece a little more subdued, little lower, little slower, lulling us a little before they simultaneously have heart attacks into their instruments and Alan abandons his altogether and goes pure vocal, freaking out like some kind of cock-eyed, farcical gorilla and then it's just some moans, moans and groans, moaning down through a dismembered clarinet, groaning into a baritone sax, whatever, it's brilliant.

Yoshida Tatsuya plays next as Ruins Alone, playing drums and keyboard and vocals and flicking around with backing tracks. The whole set is a torrential outpouring of ideas, overloading, utterly insane, rabid music. There's a lot of Zheul type material in there and some metal and there's fucking ridiculous synth noise bits and there's a section comprised of tiny segments of various national anthems, pop classical favourites and the phantom of the opera. What the hell is that? It felt like he could have played forever, never running out of energy or material, as if this is just what's happening in his head all the time and if you give him a drumkit to sit behind he'll let you in on it for a bit. When he stops it's abrupt and comes from nowhere and you realise you're still trying to process the stuff he was playing five minutes ago and by the time you've caught up with him he's had a ten minute break and it's time for all three guys to play together, time for the trio.

Ward swaps clarinet for electric guitar, then swaps back and swaps back again until by the end of the set he's playing both at the same time. Yoshida channels the gods and rains down an almighty storm on drums and keys, while Alan cheekily farts his saxaphones around it all. It is on the fucking limits man, it's crazy, it's heavy, it's mesmerising, it dips into Slayer then chews up the tape and throws it in a pond. It is freaky fucking music and it's infectious and the whole evening was so right on and so fucking righteous that when it's all over the crowd start barking like dogs because they've just had their minds flipped fully upside down and that's what crazy people do, they bark like dogs and they wiggle their tails.

Burial Hex/Saturn Finger/Kinit Her - Cafe Oto 16/06/09

Kinit Her up first with an odd mixture of growling, extremely high pitched vocals and staid metal riffs which you'd assume were a joke if they didn't look so serious about it. I wouldn't recommend it.

I'd come to see Burial Hex who was apparently going to perform a set especially adapted for the idiosyncrasies of Cafe Oto, which turned out to mean he played Oto's grand piano for a bit before continuing on as normal, smashing bits of metal into each other and manipulating distorted loops with effects pedals. The piano was accomplished and morose in the extreme and accompanied by some chanting and growling vocals, with very quiet, soft, noise under it all. It was all satisfyingly gloomy. The perfect intro to the crushing noise that made up the rest of the set, like something irascible was lurking there and spurred to erupt. Very angry, almost frightening, and utterly engrossing.

Rounding off the night were Saturn Finger, who just sounded like a couple of amiable but demented alpaca farmers calling upon some Peruvian god for god knows what. Something exciting maybe? Their god wasn't very forthcoming.

Alexander Tucker/Sculpture - Cafe Oto 08/10/08

Alex Tucker is fucking boring.

Sculpture was great. I mean, he was actually pretty excellent with his messed up dance music and his messed up mic style, in spite of the shitty set-up they have there at Cafe Oto. Go Sculpture.

But Alex Tucker is fucking boring. I sat in front of him and fell asleep immediately. Then I woke up and walked out.

That's my review.