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But Muy Feo... trust me, it's in yr very best interests to listen out for them in the next year. Full of angry sideways metal shifts, a singer whose vocal howls are close to bursting, and ugly gutteral basslines. A delight. Muy Feo (pronounced "moy fayo", presumably) means "very ugly", I'm informed. Just right. This is ugly music played by beautiful people. Muy Feo are, in no uncertain terms, fucking hot. The slightly pitched-up vocals wretch inbetween the razor sharp guitar slabs. 'Furshow' is but one highlight of a watertight set, along with a couple more off their debut 'All Pleasure Is Relief' EP on Org. Angsty grinding noise, this 3-piece wrap their songs so soundly it will be hard for them not to be lauded in the very near future, by press and fans alike. A safe investment. Get in there now. Cay followed that with typical meanness. Lashing through 'Neurons Like Brandy' and 'Reasonable Ease In Chilled Out Conditions', they were musical firecrackers one minute, little garage mice the next. The mix of Nirvana and Sonic Youth power, and NoMeansNo instrument interplay, clinging to a mutant Pixies - as shown best by 'Better Than Myself' - is delicious to behold. 'Princes & Princesses' is skinning pop in an electric storm, that begs for radio play. They can even tease us with quieter tracks, 3-minute intros and drawn-out instrumentals with a post-rock bent. This is wonderful; Cay deserve to be loved, adored. Nothing could prepare you for the assault of Camp Blackfoot though. Simply nothing. The stage is somewhat crowded with slightly interesting-looking men, led sometimes by a tall young guy with fluffy hair; most of the time by a short angry man in a black shirt and a red tie, who lurches back and forth, screaming and panting and crying out the words, in and out of time with the startling music. They open with the hideous lunging 'Red Mist', and from there on things only get darker, uglier and even pronkier. Depraved noise, the songs are wild and unrestrained, inward-collapsing sonic supernovas that deal in sick bemusement. One second they're Mike Patton-fronting-the-Cardiacs hardcore mental prog; then a hand-break turn, and they've morphed into headcase free jazz Flying Luttenbachers screwballs. Camp Blackfoot create truly the most indescribable, unbelievable noise there is. After 40, 50 minutes of this, you're left in utter enthrallment, and without a clue whether or not that's even a good sign. I still can't tell. Frightening. Scream for your lives. Raging, dazing, pure noise. Experience this, then you can say you've lived. Pete Flynn |