Give ‘em time, I reckon. They’ve got energy, attitude, a spark. Let’s see if they turn into a Savages or a Divorce. I know which side of the line I’ll be cheering from.
The way The Smiths once covered their sleeves in 60s references, the way Wu-Tang Clan embraced the language and iconography of Shaolin, the way Oasis loved The Beatles, that’s the relationship Iceage has with xenophobia and white supremacy — it may not be the window, but it’s damn sure the drapes.
The Shoebox is packed. It’s hot and sweaty to the point where I would have trimmed my eyebrows before I left if I’d known they were going to be this soaked and heavy.
Shorts have always been a little difficult to pull off.
Reassurance only comes about from belonging to the right cliques. I don’t mean that to sound too negative.
Man alive, this band were scary, and a riot to dance to, live. Blurt. Blurt. Blurt. Blurt means Blurt means Blurt means Blurt means. You can find more information here. Main man Ted Milton is still releasing fascinating stuff, last I listened (couple of years ago). Oh, and here’s something I wrote about a Blurt […]