Cocaine Piss

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  • Strange Collective
  • Salt The Snail
  • Eyesore And The Jinx
EVOL @ EBGBs 26/5/18

First on at EBGBs, EYESORE AND THE JINX play to a decent early doors crowd, their live chops improving in tandem with their rising profile. Anchored by the sonorous basslines of singer Josh Miller, the trio’s thunderous alloy of rockabilly and punk traces a line back to LA legends The Gun Club. Counterbalancing the thrum of the harder hitting moments with a slew of slow arpeggio-led interludes, the three-piece wield a sound bigger than the sum of their parts. The best moment comes with recent Trump/May/Putin-baiting single Gated Community which translates into a seething rendition.

SALT THE SNAIL open their set with vocalist Krystian stepping onstage in a mask singing the theme to Jurassic Park a cappella, before moving back to the floor to spend the remainder of the set singing directly to the front row. An intriguing collision of punked-up metal and alt. rock topped with sung-spoken vocals, the outfit’s instrumental skill is immediately apparent. Comprising an octopus-armed Keith Moon-style drummer and a bassist who weaves his way around the fretboard impressively, the pulverising guitar riffs at times sound akin to Seattle sludge-grunge doyens the Melvins.

The imminent arrival of gig circuit stalwarts STRANGE COLLECTIVE sees the crowd peak as the quartet assemble for the main support slot. Playing with the easy confidence of headliners, the outfit’s psych inflected garage rock is in redoubtable health, peaking with Super Touchy and After Eight.
“We play short songs and short sets for people who don’t have a lot of spare time,” Tommy Ramone stated back in the mid-1970s, and as the band who (arguably, can of worms alert) laid punk’s foundations it’s the one principal that has remained true. If the Bruddas played songs for people who didn’t have much spare time, COCAINE PISS play them for people who get bored between breaths. Armed with a name that ensures daytime radio play on any planet is unlikely and raised eyebrows from customs official on every frontier, lead singer Aurélie, replete with skateboader’s kneepads, bounds onstage last, her energetic presence piloting the quartet’s near-nonstop live onslaught.

They hurl themselves into proceedings, playing as though their lives depend on it. Trading in 90-second blasts that sound like John Peel faves Melt Banana doing battle with hardcore heroes Minor Threat, the Belgian punks’ commitment can’t be faulted. The feeling that this is going over ground well trodden by the aforementioned pioneers and scores of lesser lights remains, however. As blink and you miss it cuts Ugly Face On and Sex Weirdos careen past, an injection of light and shade, or maybe something that didn’t have an escape velocity-paced bpm would be welcome. That said, proceedings hurtle to a close so quickly the onset of boredom is avoided. A diverting blast, but it’s the troika of support bands that linger far longer in the memory.

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