DV8 Fest
Part 3 - Bands in order of appearance:
Dyonisis
In Isolation
Chris Reed Unit
Anne-Marie Hurst
March Violets
The Duchess, York
Sunday July 24 2011
I haven't seen Dyonisis since they opened for Emilie Autumn at the Underworld in London in 2007. Now it's five yerars later and Dyonisis are opening the last day of DV8 at the Duchess in York. Five years. That's a mighty long time to remain in the opening slot.
Back in 2007 I recall I remarked that Dyonisis were nice - damning the band with faint praise, perhaps, but their prim, reserved, folkie-rocky-trippy-hoppy tunes did not inspire a surge of excitement in the depths of my psyche. Maybe, in that, we see the reasion why Dyonisis have got so far, but no further. At any rate, I'm having much the same reaction now, listening to the band's meticulously assembled quasi-folk balladry, the two female vocalists keeping it neat over the lope and sway of a danceable backing track.
Only the guitarist seems to harbour a desire to rock it up a bit. On the rare occasions where the Dyonisis' tasteful restraint loosens up enough to allow a little guitar action, he lams into his six strings as if he'd secretly like the band to be a lot more hard-hitting than they are. You and me both, mate.
In Isolation isn't exactly a name that says 'Party!', but the band turn out to be a bit more lively than their handle suggests. Workmanlike post-punky alternorock is their thing: chunky, guitar-driven stuff. It ain't a bad racket, and the band certainly rattle along at a fair old clip. But - crucial drawback ahoy - the music lacks the vital factor of memorable songs.
The band work hard at making their half-Suede, half-Chameleons noise. The arrangements are packed tight with guitar, more guitar, bass, and busy drums. The lyrics are wordy and delivered with suitable intensity. But it's as if the band have read the recipe book, mixed all the ingredients, but still can't quite bake the cake. I'm waiting for something to stick in my head, something that makes me think, "Ah - now that's the killer tune!" but the moment never arrives. In the end, In Isolation strike me as four musicians in search of a songwriter. Or a chef pâtissier.
If you can't get Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, the next best thing is Chris Reed Unit, which turns out to be...Chris Reed. RLYL's frontman arrives on stage along with his guitar, a drummer (who rumour has it is his son), and some nifty disco lights (no relation). So we're in for some well-lit minimalism, then.
But then again, maybe things aren't going to be so minimal. For Chris Reed conjures up a dense, rolling sound, all-encompassing and almost mantra-like in its hypnotic, rhythmic push and shove. It's not a million miles from the classic RLYL sound, but with a lurking element of - well, I was going to say mysticism, but that sounds downright daft when Chris Reed is standing right in front of me, dour, bespectacled, and resolutely matter-of-fact. He's hardly king of the space-rockers, now, is he? And yet, the crawling mantras of the music exert their own strange pull.
And now, the not-the-Skeletal-Famiy show. Anne-Marie Hurst was, of course, Skeletal Family's original vocalist, but she wasn't part of the band's reformed line-up of 2002. Anne-Marie didn't make her own comeback until some years later, by which time the new-look Skels had made two albums and notched up some healthy gig history, including three WGT appearances.
But as soon as Anne-Marie decided to rejoin the fray, two key Skeletal Family sidemen - bassist Trotwood and guitarist Stan - came on board with her. As a result, the new Skeletal Family split, leaving the way clear for Anne-Marie's new band...which looks very much like the old Skeletal Family. I hope you've made a note of all this, because I'll be asking you to draw diagrams later.
Of course, one advantage of the not-Skeletal-Family approach is that the repertoire of Anne-Marie's post-Skels band, Ghost Dance, is up for grabs, too. Tonight we get the greatest hits of both, delivered with much verve and energy by Anne-Marie, who practically drapes herself over the monitors in her eagerness to reach the audience. It's as if she's making up for those long years of absence by turning it up to the max now.
Ghost Dance's 'Grip Of Love' puts in an appearance early in the set, 'She Cries Alone' - perhaps the definitive Skeletal Family song - comes up soon afterwards. But whatever the songs' origins, I'm rather alarmed to find they're given the same heavy-duty rock treatment tonight. Joining the ex-Skeletal Family musicians is a new, young guitarist who sports a tattoo that looks suspiciously like a homage to Guns 'n' Roses gunslinger Slash. He's certainly channelling The Metal.
While a bit of heavy guitar rather suited Specimen's sound last night, the same can't be said this time. Specimen went for a big, brash, T. Rex-style glam sound, and it worked. Here, it's all just artless metalnoize, and frankly it doesn't work.
The songs are pummelled into submission by new quasi-metal arrangements, and while the Ghost Dance/Skeletal Family songbook is strong enough not to buckle under the strain, I can't say the same for me. Eventually the relentless bludgeon riffola drives me to the back of the room, where, from a safe distance, I watch Anne-Marie working the crowd like a trouper.
Anne-Marie is clearly glad to be back. I'm glad she's back. I wish her every success. But if the big new master plan is to re-invent Anne-Marie Hurst as a metal artist, I'm afraid she and I will come to a parting of the ways.
Fortunately, The March Violets have not felt the need to rebrand themselves as a metal act for the twenty-first century. The band headline tonight with all their left-field weirdness intact.
And yes, The March Violets are left-field and weird, splendidly so, notwithstanding the more commercial direction the band took in the late 80s.
When The March Violets reformed, they picked up the thread of their earliest incarnation in post-industrial, post-punk Leeds in the early 80s. A wise move, not only because that's the source of the band's best material, but also because, now that the influence of that era informs much current music, The March Violets have ended up sounding very contemporary.
So here they go, all machine-beat clatter and guitar/bass organics, with the counter-intuitive front-duo of Rosie Garland and Si Denbigh staking out the stage in their it-shouldn't-work-but-it-does double act. Rosie is all showbiz confidence, glitter and glam. Si is a perturbing presence in a long black overcoat, a looming, shadowy figure at the heart of the band's razzle-dazzle.
The March Violets have a visual identity that breaks all the rules of what a band should look like, but also - crucial point here - they have the songs to carry it off. 'Slow Drip Lizard', with its pummelling beat and cut-glass guitar, is exhilarating in its oddness.
'Children On Stun' and 'Grooving In Green' pop up, with Rosie remarking on the song titles' other lives as band names. Nobody's formed a band called 'Radiant Boys', though - strangely, since that one really does sound like a band name. Maybe, tonight, someone will be inspired by the rise-and-repeat guitar riff, that dunk-dunk-dunk beat, and Rosie and Si's triumphantly yelled vocals, and do the decent thing.
You know what I'd like to do wiith The March Violets? Get 'em on the bill at an event like the 1234 Festival. Put the band alongside a few of today's post-punky artists, and encourage what is, after all, a very obvious cross-fertilisation that 
hasn't quite happened yet.
Tonight's bill, on which The March Violets played with fellow old-schoolers from the Yorkshire goth days of the 80s, was good - but, let's face it, a bit of a no-brainer.
I'm sure it was nice for the bands to play with old friends and all, but there's no reason why any of the bands have to keep the same old company.
In a way it's disappointing that the cross-fertilisation didn't happen here at DV8, where bands from the contemporary post-punk scene - Cold In Berlin, The Chapman Family, O. Children - were grouped together on their own separate bill.
There was an obvious opportunity to mix things up a bit there, but nobody grabbed it. Why shouldn't Cold In Berlin play on the same bill as The March Violets?
It's frustrating that the DV8 festival, having been sussed enough to realise that bands with a compatible aesthetic exist outside the confines of the goth scene, wasn't brave enough to totally demolish what are, after all, entirely artificial barriers.
We'll see what happens next time. After all, if DV8 plans to continue at the same level - 50 bands per event - there'll be plenty more opportunities do do that mixing-up thing. Down with barriers, up with exhilarating oddness. I'll drink to that.
The March Violets: Website | MySpace | Facebook
Anne-Marie Hurst: Website | MySpace | Facebook
Chris Reed Unit: Website | MySpace | Facebook
In Isolation: Website | Facebook
Back to DV8 Fest part 1 here.
For more photos from the DV8 Fest, find (some of) the bands by name here.
