Fangs On Fur
Cedar Tavern, Blackpool
Thursday November 1 2012
Blackpool in the rain. The traditional British holiday experience. And punk rock in the Cedar Tavern courtesy of the Misery Of Sound club - not quite the traditional British pub experience.
There's no stage, but a handy step up to the saloon bar end of the pub provides a vantage point where the bands can range themselves among the soft furnishings, while the audience swigs beer in the belly of the boozer. It's all a bit improvised, but it works. So, hey, let's do the show right here...
B-Movie Britz are up from Corby on a mission to make noise. They're young, spunky, and they play a set of punchy punker numbers that have a touch of vintage UK Subs about them - an impression reinforced by thier cover of the Subs' 'Stranglehold'.
The band probably haven't quite nailed thier own identity yet - the world is full of spunky punkers, and I'm not sure if B-Movie Britz have hacked out a niche for themselves yet in the cliff-face of rock 'n' roll. But they're clearly having fun swinging the pickaxe.
With a name like Pink Hearse, it's a fair bet you're going to get something fast and brash. And, quite possibly, pink. Well, here they come, and, yep, brashness and fastness and pinkness are much in evidence, as the singer headbangs her mass of pink hair to the crash-bang punkabilly kicked around by the band.
Pink Hearse don't do slow songs. They are not the kind of band that's going to say, "OK, let's take it down a bit..." and then go into some trundling ballad. Pink Hearse songs are like grenades hurled gleefully from the stage, and every one detonates on impact. They're like an unholy marriage between the Ramones and the Plasmatics in some whacko rock 'n' roll chapel in Las Vegas (honeymoon in Blackpool, naturally).
"Let's see you kick the SHIT out of each other!" hollers the singer, as Pink Hearse deploy another musical knuckeduster. She's joking, of course. Pink Hearse are never less than good humoured and good fun. But they don't take prisoners.
It's the first date of the Fangs On Fur European tour tonight. Nothing like plunging in at the deep end. If Fangs On Fur can convince a Blackpool pub crowd to like 'em, the rest is going to be lemon squeezy.
There's an almost otherworldly allure about Fangs On Fur, as they clamber up the saloon bar step in their fishnet and body paint, like a glam gang from the bad side of town. You're almost tempted to ask them about the initiation ceremony.
They dive unceremoniously into their taut, tribal, whirling ruckus. The drums and bass, free of frills and hard as nails, hammer everything along. The guitar is a feline thing: it scrabbles and yowls and does its best to climb up the curtains.
And, stalking the edge of the saloon bar step, lead singer F-Girl gets in the faces of the audience, her vocals an assertive squall as the band powers through the Fangs On Fur songbook at ramming speed. 'Dead Or Alive' is a life-affirming romp; 'Snake', a slip 'n' slide through the post-punk undergrowth. And you can't beat the pell-mell hurtle through 'Cigarette' (or, as it's known around here, 'Fag'), which, with its "whoa-oh-oh" chorus, probably counts Fangs On Fur's most straight-up punk song. Not that Fangs On Fur are ever un-punk, you understand. But they don't mind kicking the concept around a little.
By the time the band skid sideways into their final song, the appropriate-for-Blackpool 'Blood On The Sand', they've won the crowd over. European tour duly launched; chalk up the first date as a win.
Best break out the body paint, I reckon. We've all been initiated into the glam gang tonight.
Fangs On Fur:
B-Movie Britz: Facebook
For more photos from this gig,
find the bands by name here.
Find a Fangs On Fur interview here.