| Check Engine / Zu / Guapo - London, Upstairs at the Garage Friday 18th January 2002 |
Guapo are the home-town contingent, with their line-up recently expanded to include a keyboard player and subsequently sounding the best they've ever been. Still it's the freeform bass drone and extended drum solo headed straight for oblivion, but now with added orchestral melody to soften the blow. They've taken a step back, spread their wings a bit, but, of course, continue to take great delight in inflicting it all upon us.
It's like the soundtrack to a Japanese snuff movie, and all strangely hypnotic, the keyboards spiralling out of sight, only to break to a wall of pure white light, while the rhythm section rumbles obliviously on. Then it builds inexorably from nowhere, a howling drone rising to meet the seemingly random percussion with tentacles reaching out to envelop everybody and everything.
Rarely can one man have had such a galvanising effect on a band; with Guapo, strength has been found in increased numbers.
From Italy come Zu, furthering the themes of discordant brass and indiscriminate rhythm. At times it's in the vein of John Zorn fronting a bad Primus jam session, the squarking sax and angular bass-lines, but there's definitely some sort of underlying infectious groove to it, in the midst of all the experimental noise. It's elusive but also perfectly accessible, with short bursts of tunefulness and an energising edge complementing the intricate madness.
You don't always know where the hell they're going, but you sure want to hitch along with them, as they drop to a mournful, late night ambience, only to inevitably crash back in with more raging jazz discord. Yet those brass-lines are naggingly, peculiarly familiar, briefly evoking the theme from The Sweeney or some long-lost Abba song before veering off into another zone entirely.
And that bass-player might be Monkey Boy's long-lost twin, with his gawky dancing and excruciating face-pulling and deranged stage antics. It's clearly catching, this elastic bass-abuse and nonsensical rambling. Spoken in all the best places, the universal language of the dominant 7th discord.
Check Engine's sinewy, tattooed saxophone-player, the one with the smiling eyes and the cheeks puffed out like he's sucking on a couple of golf balls, fixes us with another stare and continues playing a song that is quite possibly called 'So, We Got Some Balls Can Balls. What Else Do We Got?'.
You'll recognise this man as Steve Sostak, leader of another bunch of Chicagoan innovators called Sweep The Leg Johnny, and his influence shines through every pore of their set. Yet he is now but one focus of an amazing rock n roll band, a great jumping punk rock band with the biggest pop songs and an invigorating jazz edge.
They might almost be Sweep with added soul power, fronted by Smokin' Joe Cannon, also known as Guy Comfortable, the most righteous guitarist you ever saw, the James Dean Bradfield of math-rock with his cocksure strut and diesel-soaked vocals. Or maybe they're even taking a step towards the recently-polluted waters of emo.
But you only need to know that this is rock n roll, first and foremost, a beautiful, sprawling vision with all five individuals locking into the same gloriously hazy groove, all pulling in the same direction but each bringing a different angle or texture to the proceedings.
It lifts off like a jetplane and floats like a hummingbird, such elegance only possible with fierce commitment and the hardest work. Their obvious relaxation and enjoyment is clearly borne of total confidence, and it's impossible to resist. Even if Joe and drummer Nuke Swayze seem intent on fighting each other before the night is over.
It all makes for a delightful, heart-in-mouth set, effortlessly encompassing more contrasts and extremes than most bands even realise exist.
And, as if you couldn't guess, it was some celebration.
Steve
