Imperial Leisure @Mr Kyps, 20/03/2010

What has six heads, one horn and a whole new albums worth of material to show off? Skankalicious London based six-piece Imperial Leisure have descended on Mr Kyp's for a night of singing, dancing and a lot of beer. Previously a ten headed, three horned beast, the newly honed ska-rap mob have spent this month on tour around the country, showcasing brand new tracks from their upcoming second album due out in the summer.

Known for their hyper guerrilla gigs and eclectic mix of sounds and styles, Imperial Leisure have played Glastonbury and Reading, toured with ska legends Less Than Jake and even played a mobile gig in front of France’s most recognisable structure. “That place is so iconic,” vocalist Denis Smith remembers, “we didn’t realise what we were doing until we saw the video footage back and couldn’t believe we were actually at the Eiffel Tower!”


Tonight’s set is -as expected - full of bounce and flair. Their music is as infectious as the smiles on the fan's faces and the new material goes down a treat. Its classic tracks 'In a Letter', 'Man On The Street' and 'Alperton' from debut album The Art of Saying Nothing that incite energy in the faithful attending that any band would be envious of.

What makes Imperial Leisure special is the lack of distance between the crowd and the band members themselves. Everyone in the 300 capacity venue tonight is here for the same reason- to have the best time. They’re proud to show off their new work, described by guitarist AJ White as a ‘melting pot of ideas’, and do so with confidence and pizzazz.

At one point the front man finds himself bounding through the crowd, pouring a bottle of cava over their heads and inviting those at the barrier to sing down the mic. Who, of course, are more than willing to oblige. It’s a moment that really highlights the fact that Imperial Leisure are a fans band - and they revel in the interactivity.

As they leave with set closer ‘Untouchable’ and the fitting lyrics of “this place makes my heart pump, when I’m feeling low this lifts me up”, everyone is satisfied and no one could be happier. Especially the young 17-year-old invited backstage for a CD signing for his birthday.

Imperial Leisure are going places and this summer should prove the most exciting yet, when their second album is unleashed amongst the public. A Great British Summertime it shall be indeed.

The Rebel Alliance Tour, Sunday 7th February@Mr Kyps

If one were to ‘skank’ – the dance form associated with the feel good music of ska - then one would lean forward, out stretch the arms and, essentially, jog on the spot. To the upbeat of some reggae inspired tunes, of course. On February 7th The Rebel Alliance Tour stopped off at Poole’s atmospheric live music venue Mr. Kyps and ‘skanking’ is exactly what those who checked it out did. The tour sees the union of three of the UK’s young heroes of the ska scene today; Random Hand, Mouthwash and The Skints, as well as international acoustic artist Chris Murray.

First on the stage tonight, Chris Murray and Friends –comprising of The Skint’s drummer and bassist – has the unenviable task of playing to a crowd that is yet to reach 20 in number. Despite this his set is flawless and filled to the brim with melody and bounce and it’s clear he’s in his element, ‘daring’ the inquisitive couple dozen to come closer. “Welcome to Mr. Kyps, it’s a cool place to be…and the crowd goes wild!” he jokes with a smile and genuine adoration for the support he’s received. You can’t help but warm to his charm and, frankly, he deserves a bigger audience.

Random Hand are tipped as one of the fastest rising ska punk bands in the UK today. The four-piece have previously toured with eclectic homegrown skankers Sonic Boom Six - founders of the Rebel Alliance Label – as well as Californian ska punk legends Reel Big Fish. Mouthwash have supported Florida party-band Less Than Jake and have years of experience of headline tours under their black and white checked belts. Tonight this experience shows and both bands shine at times with a raw punk energy and clear blues roots. It’s clear the crowd is never going to exceed 50-odd and both bands make the most of the fantastic atmosphere of Kyp’s to incite a dance pit. “You’re all like minded, if one dances you’ll all dance” Random Hand front man and class joker Robin Leitch screams. And, for the remainder of theirs and Mouthwash’s set, they do.

By the time bill closers The Skints take to the stage the beer is flowing and the quality of music remains high. It’s still the same faithful skankers down the front but in this environment a pit of 10 is no less impressive than a pit of 100. That said it is unfortunate that so few were in attendance tonight as those who were enjoyed every second. Ska is certainly not dead; it just needs to be prodded awake. See for yourself- catch the mighty Sonic Boom Six at Kyp’s in April.

Rammstein Burn Birmingham

It’s a bitingly cold Wednesday night in Birmingham. The LG Arena is about to play host to one of the world’s most controversial bands and one known best for their live presence. 100’s of believers stampede through the halls to be first through the arena doors. Everyone knows that something colossal is about to go down and everyone wants to be caught in the explosion.

It must be said that without the impressive light show, support act Combichrist would be a dull and odd looking experience. With their assortment of industrial spaz-metal and a somewhat baffling resemblance to the Muppet band Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, it takes a pinch of salt to appreciate what they’re trying to achieve with songs like ‘What the F**k is Wrong With You?’ and ‘*F**k That S**t.’ Ironically, the sentiments of many in the crowd by the end of the set. There is a moment of intrigue when the drummer-duo pour water over their kits, sending droplets soaring with every perfectly executed beat. But, with an audience of 12 000 eagerly awaiting Germany’s biggest musical export and well aware of the wonders their 20-something trucks have carted across the continent - nobody cares.

It is near impossible to explain just how good Rammstein are. It simply is something you have to witness for yourself. You can’t just sling clichés like ‘they put on a great show’ or ‘the audience loved it.’ Imagine the best Guy Fawkes Night - indoors - meshed with the scene where the ring is destroyed in the Return of the King.

They take to the stage using pickaxes to break through their set walls, exposing a blinding light behind. Front man Till Lindeman booms opener ‘Rammleid’ with mini lights illuminating his mouth as the crowd sing back their name. He says very little for the 2 hours of their set – comprising mainly of their latest work from Liebe ist für alle da - and he doesn’t have to. The thousands in front of him are gripped from the start by every double beat of the drum, every relentless power chord and every eclectic tune from Flake’s keys. At times you can’t move from sheer bemusement that the stage is on fire or that there is a skinny man crowd surfing above you in a Quicksilver boat. There are flames every other song and there are explosions in between. Now you can understand why it takes a whole year of advance planning and dress rehearsals.

But enough about the show. Rammstein said recently with regards to their tour that they worry fans care more for the flames than the music. Understandable, as no other band in the world would dangle a couple dozen laser emitting doll babies from the light rigging in poetic symbolism of the antics of Josef Fritzl. However, the German six-piece still have the repertoire to ignite a good sing along – even in a foreign language. Fan favourites 'Ich Will' and 'Du Hast' stand out as the spine tingling stadium anthems of the night. It’s new single ‘Pussy’ that gets the biggest reception, possibly because it’s mainly in English and possibly because it’s about sex. It’s probably because Till mounts a cement mixer-come-fallice and sprays the crowd with sweet smelling foam at its climax. Seriously, had to be there.

By the time they reach their second encore and set closer, 'Engel', those who bore witness to what came before stand in awe as Till takes to the stage sporting flame throwing angel wings. Not the kind you wear to ballet. The kind you would imagine the perpetrator of the end of the world wearing as he demolishes all human kind. The German government may be ashamed of them but metal fans across Europe love them. And, with flames that touch the ceiling, fireworks that scale the arena and exploding laser babies, there can be no argument that - when it comes to pure spectacle - Rammstein are hands down the greatest live band in the world.

Flames, Fireworks and Exploding Laser Babies
http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=GB&v=tnHrGVp0jiw

Rough Guide to Edinburgh

Nestled in the flowing landscape of the Central Lowlands of Scotland, Edinburgh remains the Scot’s battered, bruised but never really defeated Capital City. Dating back to the 12^th Century, it has seen invasions, wars and disease. The Roman’s overlooked it when they brought us sanitation and roads - it is said you could smell it from 50 miles away. Today though Edinburgh is coined as one of most beautiful cities in Europe. It’s certainly one of the most sentimental and engaging.

City dwellers are proud of Edinburgh’s history. It is a stunning archaic icon of Scotland and from aloft of Castle Rock stands one of Scotland’s top tourist attractions - Edinburgh Castle. Tickets are £11 for adults, £5.50 for children and under-five’s go free, making for a fantastic, enthralling family day out. At the end of the day - from the hilltop where the Castle beams - you can watch the sun setting over the Old Town in panoramic view. Sonia’s Guest House is just a 10 minute drive from the city centre and offers bed and breakfast from as little as £30.

Edinburgh’s Royal Mile, so called as it is roughly one ‘Scots mile’ in length, stretches through the Old Town and is home to an array of both quaint pubs and lively bars. The Mitre serves food throughout the day and hosts live music as well as an impressive selection of drinks at reasonable prices. On a Saturday night the average price for a pint is around £3.30. The street itself was once the site of thousands of murders, tortures and human trafficking and is said to sit on top of one of the most complex underground systems in Europe. An old folk tale tells of a young drummer boy who was sent down to investigate the labyrinth below the Mile. When the drums ceased, locals bricked up the ends and, presuming him to be victim to whatever lay below, forgot about him.

With a history as black as sin it’s only right that visitors taste the horror of the old graveyards and underground vaults. Black Hart Entertainment’s ‘City of the Dead’ tour is described as ‘weird, wild and wicked’ and concession prices start at £6.50. The vaults have been featured on the British paranormal documentary ‘Most Haunted’ and are said to be awash with ‘off the scale paranormal activities.’ If stories of visitors reporting scratches, bruises and feeling breathing on their necks aren’t enough to quench thirst for thrills then watch out in coming months for a new discovery in the vaults. The company are in a legal battle with the council to excavate further and uncover the secrets of a suspected cut off room.

Edinburgh isn’t just a city; it is a visual celebration of heritage, patriotism and a dark history that is violent, plagued with misery and at times downright disgusting. If history isn’t the appeal then it’s a beautiful modern scene and the high street brands on Princes Street allow hours of quality browsing.

‘Mentallica’- Poole, Saturday 31st- Mr Kyps

“How do we get in?” is the first question of the night as we approach who we believe to be a roadie by the back entrance of Mr Kyps. Only he isn’t and, to be honest, we should have known better. He has it all- the long locks, the carefully groomed ‘Hetfield’ beard and the leather jacket. He has the cigarettes, the beer and, oddly, what looks like a bottle of sun cream. ‘Did you find your hair elixir?’ axe man Aid sniggers as his front man re-enters the room, fixing his metallic mane. He is Chris Jones and he leads the band hailed as ‘Europe’s No.1 tribute to Metallica.’ And I was about to find out just how justified that title is.

Dudley based Mentallica are a fantastic bunch. They’re laid back and care-free and yet remain welcoming and professional. They drink ‘girly cider’- not forgetting the ice. Best of all, they are relentless in the way they talk of how good things are for the band. “Mr Kyps is the greatest gig on the circuit,” co founder Dave Hadley beams. “Tonight is going to be good.” Tonight, of course, is Halloween. The full moon is blinding, the fog is rising and the crowd of 300 ‘tallica fans have not forgotten the occasion. It’s a rare delight to witness werewolf, zombie and ‘crazed topless fan waving blow up club’ embracing in mosh together. But that’s metal and that’s Halloween.

In the hours before the gig- completed by drummer Mart- the guys laugh and bounce the answers towards me with a fun-filled passion. “There was no question- it was always going to be Metallica, although the name was debated once. I still believe it should be ‘The Chris Jones Quartet” he jests, with a cheeky smile. When asked if they’ve ever met their hero’s, excitable bassist Dave sat forward with a grin. “We’d love to meet them. But I’ll tell you what, their sound manager helped us out in our opening shows and came to us once with a message, ‘Metallica have heard of you and they wish you all the best.’ That’s a moment I’ll never forget.”

On stage the guys are no different. They smile and laugh at each other, clearly lapping up every second. “We’ve got some Metallica fans in here tonight, right?” The roar from the crowd says it all. Mentallica are a tight and well oiled machine. They appear to flawlessly attack each track as it comes, covering both fan favourites and their own. They have the backdrop, an array of crucifixes across the stage echoing the album art from ‘Master Of Puppets’ and an endless supply of beer. The show itself couldn’t be better and ‘tallica classics ‘Creeping Death ’, ‘Enter Sandman’ and ‘Whiplash’ go down as expected. You can’t help but think Hetfield’s crew would be proud.

Horns aloft, you can almost envisage the 300 strong crowd take to the spirit of dress-up and don their best Sparta voice- “this is ‘tallica!” It, of course, isn’t. But believe me, it’s as close as you can get and talk backstage suggests tonight was something special. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun,” Dave mused, grabbing a beer. “Just the right amount of alcohol, the perfect crowd and the greatest sound we’ve ever had.” They’re also a bright bunch and, as he slowly takes off his clothes, axe man Aid explains to me the importance of having a clean t-shirt. “Heavy metal is a lot of things, but it’s not unhygienic.” 5/5

Keeping Karma in a Crisis.

I’m a real believer in the whole ‘one good deed a day’ thing. Be it paying someone a simple compliment, providing physical help or simply just giving advice, I feel it’s the most selfless way of being subtly selfish- especially if you believe in Karma. The definition of Karma runs along the lines of: ‘the effects of a person's actions that determine his or her destiny.’ So if you do good things to others, good things will happen to you.

Today I travelled back from Birmingham having witnessed the mighty punk band Green Day at the LG Arena. Fantastic night, except for the fact that linking trains are useless, late and so, so unreliable. I therefore arrived at the LG Arena with only minutes to spare and, within those 10 minutes before the Californian Trio bounded on stage, the zoom function on my camera broke. Some could argue that, if I’m loosely basing this around Karma, this misfortune derives from a negative action of mine in the last couple of hours. You could say that playing a particularly amusing scene from Sasha Baron Cohen’s ‘Borat’ in my head- the one with the shape shifting Jews- whilst a Jewish man sold me one of the thousand of train tickets I bought that night- may justify this predicament. I just call it rotten luck. I’ll let Karma off there, as I have nothing against Jews.

In the morning I decided to leave the abode at which I had crashed at 8am. My good friend Luke and I left for Birmingham New Street and, oh joy, embarked on further linking trains to get to the City from our friend’s house in suburbia. My reasoning behind an earlier train was simple- I couldn’t bear the thought of missing one of my biweekly sessions with Ken ‘The Deformation Deviant’ Brown. I genuinely wanted to go. Does that not omit positivity towards my lecturer and a subject that frankly is a little dull? Surely Karma Kudos there.

So I had breakfast and bid a tearful farewell to Luke. I was roughly 40 minutes into my voyage home, 2 hours earlier than planned- on Richard’s very own ‘safest trains in the world,’ and therefore never once feared for my life- when I was approached by the stewardess checking tickets. Up to that point I also never once feared for my future as a passenger on that particular journey as, law abiding and responsible citizen that I am, I, of course, produced a valid ticket for the return leg of my trip. I handed her my papers with a smile. I’d used my brand new Student Railcard for the first time for ‘Advance Tickets’ and in the end benefited from a good deal. Only I wasn’t aware that I couldn’t escape Brum on an earlier train, due to the fact that the discount was for a middle of the day journey only. I was told by the stewardess, albeit politely, that if I didn’t jiggy jet off the vehicle pronto I would incur a fine of £50. That’s what I refer to as Karma ‘kicking you in the balls.’ There I was, eager to return to dear Ken to hear about the world of crime when I was accused of being a criminal myself. I had to get off at the next station.

Next thing I knew I was stranded in ‘Banbury,’- which, according to an outside source, contains ‘an awful lot of houses’- and is a place I literally have never heard of. The station is pleasant enough and I treated myself to a coffee and enjoyed nearly 2 hours of relentless yelping from Mrs. Dawn Johnson as I scribbled her outlines. Eventually sick of that I ventured down to the platform to check when I’d have my freedom once again. Suddenly I spotted a small square piece of thick, brown leather teasing me from a bench. As if to apologise for causing me to let the poor Ken down and offering up a whole new opportunity for me to do my good deed for the day, Karma had presented me with a rather expensive looking wallet.

I sat by said article and pretended to pick it up as if it were mine- I’d certainly had enough of being accused of petty crime for one day. The wallet was Gant, just like my own, so was of high quality and contained £40 in notes and some Euros. I mused for a moment but decided to do the honorable thing and hand it in. As if to further giggle wildly at my luck, the wallet had just 30p in change in it. I had minutes before that kicked myself for not possessing enough change to buy a paper and it seemed that German student ‘Johan’ did not have sufficient coinage either. And I feel splitting a note and leaving the change would just be, well, rude.

“Do you want to become a millionaire!?” the guy at the information desk gasped, fanning the half dozen credit cards from a pocket I had overlooked. Evidently not, I thought, as I stared longingly at today’s Times on the shelf. Feeling gutted but selfishly selfless I made my way to the platform- still too early for my train- to collect my Karma Kudos, in whatever form it was going to come. A rather stunning girl crossed my path and smiled- even glancing back for a second- but continued walking. That wasn’t kudos… that was mean. I was then approached by a crazed middle aged man frantically screaming in my face. “Is this train going to Oxford, quick!” “Yes, looks like it,” I answered, pointing to the information board right above him. “Shit!” He sniped, seemingly in my direction, literally trying to pry the doors open as if attempting to heroically save the lives of the passengers inside. I couldn’t believe it, I may be young but I’ve had enough experience with navigating train stations to know that if the information board says: “14:34 to Oxford, stopping at Oxford,” then it is going to Oxford. And I also, amazingly, know that there’s a round flashing button for opening the doors. John McLane eventually gave up and- I kid you not- glared at me as if it were my fault he was late, blind and too stupid to gain access to the train. That was also not Karma… but it was funny, I guess.

Mercifully my Virgin Train finally pulled up 2 and a half hours after I’d been dumped on the platform and I was saved. I was looking forward to snuggling up in the window seat I’d booked, donning my headphones once again and jotting down a few notes of my adventure in Banbury. But as I made my way to Aisle 58, Seat A, my heart sank and I gave a metaphorical finger to karma, once again. There, in MY seat, was an Indian man happily catching some zzz’s against MY window. That’s not to say sleeping beauty wasn’t entitled to my seat. It appeared that, as I wasn’t on board and the commencing the journey, my seat had been rendered ‘unreserved.’ Charming. An hour later he got off and I was gifted with the very seat I’d paid for months ago. What’s more, he’d left behind a copy of ‘The Express’ and, despite not being a good enough read to keep him conscious, would do me quite nicely. It was also fitting that Karma came full circle in the end, albeit 2 hours late, leaving me exhausted, frustrated and heartbroken that I’d missed out on my fix of Character Assassination love. You may think the idea complete rubbish but it’s an interesting concept nonetheless, and made the final hour and a bit fly by.

The German Orgy Buffet

If Germany has taught the British anything in recent years, it’s that you needn’t have a sirloin steak to host a successful dinner party. World famous in the metal scene for their often controversial flamboyancy, enigmatic lyrics and mind blowing live performances, Germany’s finest Rammstein return with their 6th studio album ‘Liebe ist für alle da’ (‘Love Is There For Everyone’) and it is, somewhat literally, a belter.

It’s been 4 years since the Industrial Metaller’s graced us with their presence and what a long 4 years it was. Musically, there’s nothing new here. If you know anything about them then you know what to expect- booming and swooning vocals, techno beat laden orchestral triumph and power chords aplenty. For countless other bands, avoiding stepping into the unknown would spell an instant fiery demise, but Rammstein appear to have progressed naturally without losing their distinctive, irreplaceable sound.

That can certainly be said about first track ‘Rammlied’ (‘Ramm-Song’.) Taking obvious pickings from the best bits from previous album openers ‘Reise Reise’, ‘Mein Hertz Brent’ and ‘Sehnsuct,’ it is a brotherly nod to the eponymous lost classic ‘Rammstein’ (Herzeleid, 1995)- which too will have crowds worldwide chanting their name in war-like song. Classy. ‘Ich Tut Dir Weh’ (‘I Hurt You’) follows closely in line, the immense power behind Christoph Sneider’s onslaught of percussion gets the head nodding and the pulse racing.

Then it really hits you. ‘Waidmann’s Heil’ (‘Hunter's Hail’) is an album highlight and, although straying little from the typical structure of a Rammstein piece, it is no less impressive. It begins with what can be best described as a horn. Envisage a hunt- hounds, huntsmen and whips alike. The hunter sounds the horn and the hunt is underway! Only it’s not. The pack is charged by the colossal apocalyptic machine that is Richard Kruspe (Lead Guitar) and Paul Landers (Rhythm Guitar.) The band’s repertoire is full to the brim with such riff-tastic delights and this is no exception. The power and ferocity that is a Rammstein power chord has to be heard to be believed and, most importantly, must also be heard very, very loudly.

Frontman Till Lindemann’s vocals are impeccable as always. His bass tone boom appears to handle anything flung wildly in his direction and, again despite sticking to the norm, there’s still so much experimentation song from song. ‘Haifisch’ (‘Shark’) is a majestic stampede of melody, a rarity among Rammstein’s material and is the first point of the album where Keyboardist and resident freak Christian ‘Flake’ Lorenz unleashes his spine chilling effects. The track ceases with a haunting acoustic only to lead into the monotonous bass heavy riff of ‘B*********.’ Translated as ‘Bückstabü’ which, according to Landers is a word they fabricated to mean “anything you want”, Till growls at you with unparallel malice and when the drums sound, you really ought to be sat down. Or at least armed to the teeth.

Who would have thought the band who, in the past, have written so colourfully about sadomasochism, incest and necrophilia could perpetrate a heartrenchingly beautiful love ballad like ‘Fruling in Paris’ (‘Springtime in Paris.’) It is a serenade like none other they’ve done before and Till sends shivers as he crones in French ‘non je ne regrète rien’ (no, I regret nothing.) Brilliant.No, Lindemann’s Posse are no strangers to controversy across the globe. 2004’s single ‘Mein Teil’ (‘My Part’) tells the story of Europe’s most notorious cannibal Armin Meiwes who met a man on the internet and, to cut a long story short- no pun intended- ate his genitals. The video for 2005’s first single ‘Mann Gegen Mann’ (‘Man Against Man’) sees the band and a horde of fully naked men writhing around in body oil. And, given their propensity to include all things taboo in their art, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’s first single ‘P***y’ follows much the same pattern. You may think with a name and subject like that it’d never get radio play, but it happens to be their first Number 1 in Germany. The beauty of Rammstein’s music has always been that you don’t need to understand the language to relate to the emotion it creates and, frankly, the lyrics in this particular number speak for themselves, especially as the chorus is sung entirely in English- ‘Take me now, oh don’t you see… I can’t get laid in Germany.’ And not forgetting the snigger of ‘Steck Bratwurst in dein Sauerkraut.’ Genius. It may be challenging the subject of Europe’s sex trade but to me it sounds like a creepy orgy buffet. Personally, I believe it’s their finest tune to date. The albums final 2 tracks ‘Mehr’ (‘More’) and ‘Roter Sand’ (‘Red Sand’) work excellently together, the former a ferocious mix of tempo change, varying harmonies and just sheer aggression. It closes with another example of Till Lindemann’s vocal ability, a swooning poem that leads perfectly into orchestra lead closer ‘Roter Sand’, which wouldn’t be out of place in an war movie soundtrack.

It only takes one listen to hit home the quality of the album as a whole. At times it is inventive, unpredictable and shocking and at its best it is simply butt-puckeringly powerful. Unlike, for example, previous effort ‘Rosenrot’ (2005)- which seemed a somewhat disjointed affair-, ‘Liebe ist für alle da’ could quite possibly be Rammstein’s greatest achievement. Not necessarily because it has the best and most memorable tracks but because it works and simply proves that, even after 15 years in the business, they still do it better than anyone. Saying that, it’s not the best place to begin if you’re a Rammstein virgin, it’s more the stripper on the bachelor party cake, so to speak.

Intrigued? Dude, check out:
'Asche Zu Asche' ('Herzeleid', 1995)
'Sehnsucht' (‘Sehnsucht’, 1997)
'Rein Raus' ('Mutter', 2001)
'Mein Teil' ('Reise Reise', 2004)
'Waidmanns Heil' ('Liebe ist für alle da', 2009)