And as a year of strange and unique gigs draws to a close, probably the strangest gig of all…
To give it its full title: “Come closer I have something to tell you – An evening of music with Circulus and Chrome Hoof.” Purcell Room 16/12/06.
Who what when why?
Circulus describe themselves as “a gentle fist fight between a group of under nourished sixteenth century court musicians and an acid soaked bunch of hippie rockers from the early seventies.”
Chrome Hoof describe themselves as – well they go on a bit but here’s an extract: “the sound of a radio dial snatches fragments of disparate musiks, the remorseless warrior charge of doom, abstract gasses that hiss and mingle, a distant piano ripples a melancholy refrain, wind instruments hail a clarion call to arms, motorik bass and wild drums rear up to create a vortices of dust and fire And LO, The Hoof is on the Rise!” You get the picture. One of their fans describes them as a “jazz infused doom disco death knell” which is probably a bit closer to the mark, although this is metal jazz in the Norwegian style – dark heavy and malicious (reminded me a bit of Supersilent to those who know them.)
But the evening begins with Wyrewood, a boy/girl combo playing medieval instruments with samplers to create added textures. They play the sort of instruments not seen since Howard Goodall’s “How Music Works” such as those drone producing boxes you play by rotating a handle. The boy wears a very smug self-satisfied smile throughout in that Nigel Kennedy / Gary Rhodes kind of way. Some ruffians talk all the way through.
A man in a cassock comes on stage, accompanied by a boy and two girls in golden tinfoil spacepeople costumes, and begins the narration. The evening is themed around the teachings of the Aetherius Society, in particular the book “Contact With the Gods From Space” by George King and Richard Lawrence, which tells how man is the reincarnation of aliens who blew up their own planet, founded and destroyed Atlantis, and are now hell bent on destroying the earth in nuclear armageddon. A sad tale is best for winter.
Worryingly, this is not my first contact with the Aetherius Society – I attended a gong recital / guided meditation / kundalini yoga session given by the great Gongmaster Don Conreaux at the Aetherius Society’s hq off the Fulham Road early last year. It was held in a chapel like room dominated by a huge photograph of George King.
Circulus come on first in Blackadderish tunics and play a couple of jaunty numbers; then the Hoof arrive, in full length shiny silvery cloaks and face masks and a pounding ominous song called “Nordic Curse.” I fear I am about to have a panic attack.
Things settle into a kind of routine: narration, Circulus, a woodwind/string interlude with some members of both bands, Chrome Hoof, then the cycle repeats.
Factionalism emerges amongst the fan base, with swathes of Circulusties heading for the exits whilst the Hoof are on; swarms of Hoofsters chanting “Hoooofffff” heading for the bar whilst Circulus are on.
There is a kind of amateur dramatics do pantomime feel about the whole thing; the video projection pixellates and dies (but is restored for the second half); Circulus take on the role of the innocent earthlings while the Hoof become the dark alien magi; the lead singer of Circulus gets his cue wrong and is stuck on stage with two flimsy cardboard scimitars before being molested by the Hoof and made to wear a 5 foot silver hat with circular saws for eye pieces before being banished from the stage with what feels like real venom; the Hoof’s singer reads lyrics pasted on the back of a large hat.
The second half takes the feel of Man United v Chelsea. Circulus wear spangly red shirts with white details and have the flair players; at the back the superlative Parfitt Brothers stand firm under the onslaught. The Circulusties are prettier, better dressed and more sophisticated. The Hoof play the Chelsea role, loutish beery fans, they don’t play pretty but you have to admire their dogged almost brutal determination to grind out a result. Circulus take the lead with a triumphant anthemic “Power to the Pixies”. The Circulusty Pixie People go wild. The Hoof look to the bench and bring on a twenty foot silver demon with glowing green eyes. Young children and old people run screaming from the hall (quite what they were doing there is another question entirely). It has the desired effect. Scores level. Circulus’s lead man recites “Alas, will this night go on for ever?” and I know how he feels.
Decorum in the audience has now broken down gloriously under the onslaught of booze and bass. The narrator is heckled as he begins his final plea to save the earth. The Hoofsters in the audience are winning the clash of civilisations. Some hairy bloke who may or may not be called Thogdin Ripley, co-conceiver of the evening, attempts to finish the story but is too pissed to speak and is forced to concede that yes he is reading a load of bollocks. Someone hands him a popper which he sniffs with a flourish.
Injury time and the bands combine in a shambolic finale; the pixie people dance like wild things, the hoofsters hoof, and Ollie Parfitt turns up his synth to sprinkle fairy dust sine waves over the chaos.
Both sets of fans seem happy with the result and all that is left is to look at the match stats:
1. Coolness of crowd: Circulus attract a surprising number of attractive looking women in flowery dresses – 4/5; Hoof bring loutish beer boys and grungy hairies 0/5; overall 4/10.
2. Bob quotient: 3/10, you can guess which side the good hair was on.
3. Annoyment factor: 9/10 – the initial talking during Wyrewood is annoying, but the developing shambolic waves of comings and goings and hoofing and dancing badly add to the atmosphere.
4. Sound quality: 8/10 – well its certainly loud; but it all gets a bit mushy with so many musicians on stage.
5. Comfort: 7/10 – nice seats in the Purcell Room.
6. Sexytime: 4/10, courtesy of the pixies.
7. Percussion / sound effect function: 8/10 for use of medieval/ Elizabethan instruments, lots of tambourine action, and some power drumming.
Overall: 43/70 – a curate’s egg, a game of at least two halves, and jolly good fun.
Merchandise: A nice if tatty souvenir programme, a Circulus LP (vinyl)
Visuals: A feast for the eyes – sparkly costumes, dancing girls, a twenty foot demon.
Gruff Rhys?: Nah.
You can watch very poor footage taken by me of the shambolic finale here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glN3cFfgltY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vo4l94SB2-Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWM8qs9ia0s
To give it its full title: “Come closer I have something to tell you – An evening of music with Circulus and Chrome Hoof.” Purcell Room 16/12/06.
Who what when why?
Circulus describe themselves as “a gentle fist fight between a group of under nourished sixteenth century court musicians and an acid soaked bunch of hippie rockers from the early seventies.”
Chrome Hoof describe themselves as – well they go on a bit but here’s an extract: “the sound of a radio dial snatches fragments of disparate musiks, the remorseless warrior charge of doom, abstract gasses that hiss and mingle, a distant piano ripples a melancholy refrain, wind instruments hail a clarion call to arms, motorik bass and wild drums rear up to create a vortices of dust and fire And LO, The Hoof is on the Rise!” You get the picture. One of their fans describes them as a “jazz infused doom disco death knell” which is probably a bit closer to the mark, although this is metal jazz in the Norwegian style – dark heavy and malicious (reminded me a bit of Supersilent to those who know them.)
But the evening begins with Wyrewood, a boy/girl combo playing medieval instruments with samplers to create added textures. They play the sort of instruments not seen since Howard Goodall’s “How Music Works” such as those drone producing boxes you play by rotating a handle. The boy wears a very smug self-satisfied smile throughout in that Nigel Kennedy / Gary Rhodes kind of way. Some ruffians talk all the way through.
A man in a cassock comes on stage, accompanied by a boy and two girls in golden tinfoil spacepeople costumes, and begins the narration. The evening is themed around the teachings of the Aetherius Society, in particular the book “Contact With the Gods From Space” by George King and Richard Lawrence, which tells how man is the reincarnation of aliens who blew up their own planet, founded and destroyed Atlantis, and are now hell bent on destroying the earth in nuclear armageddon. A sad tale is best for winter.
Worryingly, this is not my first contact with the Aetherius Society – I attended a gong recital / guided meditation / kundalini yoga session given by the great Gongmaster Don Conreaux at the Aetherius Society’s hq off the Fulham Road early last year. It was held in a chapel like room dominated by a huge photograph of George King.
Circulus come on first in Blackadderish tunics and play a couple of jaunty numbers; then the Hoof arrive, in full length shiny silvery cloaks and face masks and a pounding ominous song called “Nordic Curse.” I fear I am about to have a panic attack.
Things settle into a kind of routine: narration, Circulus, a woodwind/string interlude with some members of both bands, Chrome Hoof, then the cycle repeats.
Factionalism emerges amongst the fan base, with swathes of Circulusties heading for the exits whilst the Hoof are on; swarms of Hoofsters chanting “Hoooofffff” heading for the bar whilst Circulus are on.
There is a kind of amateur dramatics do pantomime feel about the whole thing; the video projection pixellates and dies (but is restored for the second half); Circulus take on the role of the innocent earthlings while the Hoof become the dark alien magi; the lead singer of Circulus gets his cue wrong and is stuck on stage with two flimsy cardboard scimitars before being molested by the Hoof and made to wear a 5 foot silver hat with circular saws for eye pieces before being banished from the stage with what feels like real venom; the Hoof’s singer reads lyrics pasted on the back of a large hat.
The second half takes the feel of Man United v Chelsea. Circulus wear spangly red shirts with white details and have the flair players; at the back the superlative Parfitt Brothers stand firm under the onslaught. The Circulusties are prettier, better dressed and more sophisticated. The Hoof play the Chelsea role, loutish beery fans, they don’t play pretty but you have to admire their dogged almost brutal determination to grind out a result. Circulus take the lead with a triumphant anthemic “Power to the Pixies”. The Circulusty Pixie People go wild. The Hoof look to the bench and bring on a twenty foot silver demon with glowing green eyes. Young children and old people run screaming from the hall (quite what they were doing there is another question entirely). It has the desired effect. Scores level. Circulus’s lead man recites “Alas, will this night go on for ever?” and I know how he feels.
Decorum in the audience has now broken down gloriously under the onslaught of booze and bass. The narrator is heckled as he begins his final plea to save the earth. The Hoofsters in the audience are winning the clash of civilisations. Some hairy bloke who may or may not be called Thogdin Ripley, co-conceiver of the evening, attempts to finish the story but is too pissed to speak and is forced to concede that yes he is reading a load of bollocks. Someone hands him a popper which he sniffs with a flourish.
Injury time and the bands combine in a shambolic finale; the pixie people dance like wild things, the hoofsters hoof, and Ollie Parfitt turns up his synth to sprinkle fairy dust sine waves over the chaos.
Both sets of fans seem happy with the result and all that is left is to look at the match stats:
1. Coolness of crowd: Circulus attract a surprising number of attractive looking women in flowery dresses – 4/5; Hoof bring loutish beer boys and grungy hairies 0/5; overall 4/10.
2. Bob quotient: 3/10, you can guess which side the good hair was on.
3. Annoyment factor: 9/10 – the initial talking during Wyrewood is annoying, but the developing shambolic waves of comings and goings and hoofing and dancing badly add to the atmosphere.
4. Sound quality: 8/10 – well its certainly loud; but it all gets a bit mushy with so many musicians on stage.
5. Comfort: 7/10 – nice seats in the Purcell Room.
6. Sexytime: 4/10, courtesy of the pixies.
7. Percussion / sound effect function: 8/10 for use of medieval/ Elizabethan instruments, lots of tambourine action, and some power drumming.
Overall: 43/70 – a curate’s egg, a game of at least two halves, and jolly good fun.
Merchandise: A nice if tatty souvenir programme, a Circulus LP (vinyl)
Visuals: A feast for the eyes – sparkly costumes, dancing girls, a twenty foot demon.
Gruff Rhys?: Nah.
You can watch very poor footage taken by me of the shambolic finale here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glN3cFfgltY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vo4l94SB2-Y
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gWM8qs9ia0s
demon days
spangled carnage
No comments:
Post a Comment