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15th Wave Gotik Treffen - Part 2
Werk
II and Moritzbastei, Leipzig Here we go: The Wave Gotik Treffen, day one of the main event. Traditionally, and officially, the WGT starts on the Friday of its long weekend, regardless of what warm up events might have taken place earlier. So, this is where it really begins, and here we are in Werk II, a former industrial building now given over to the dark forces of rock 'n' roll, waiting for some of those forces to be shoved out at us. Holding
down that daunting opening slot we have Hatesex,
who have amassed a fair few friends and well-wishers down the front
to speed them on their way. Hatesex might be new to the WGT stage -
and, in fact, new to any stage, since it appears this is their first-ever
gig - but the band is built around guitarist Benn Ra, who has stints
in Diva Destruction and Scarlet's Remains under his belt. That drops
a hint that this is no collection of wide-eyed novices. Sure enough,
the band have a certain air of no-shit confidence, and a big, rolling,
dense-as-fog sound which expands effortlessly to fill this old industrial
hall. I suppose, if you wanted to grab a quick comparison, you could
say 'early Banshees', But Hatesex carve out their own niche, with those sharply-honed shards of guitar, and that big, sandpaper sound. Good stuff, and certainly one for the 'keep an eye on 'em' list. The
WGT is full of odd juxtapositions, and here comes the first one of this
year's festival. Rather than follow Hatesex with another post-punk-ish
guitar band, our next act is the stripped-down EBM slammers Accessory.
Two blokes up front brandish microphones and holler fearsomely over
a beat that sounds like freight trains colliding, while, right at the
back, the obligatory bloke behind the keyboard...well, stands behind
the keyboard. The music is minimalist but loud, relentlessly fast and
furious, and the total effect is undeniably impressive. But I can't
help thinking that we've already got one Nitzer Ebb. I don't know if
there's a vacancy for another one. Third
band in, and things get wrenched in yet another musical direction. The
name of the next band is Witt, although
on closer inspection it seems like it's one of those solo-artist-who-gives-his-name-to-the-band
deals. Joachim Witt, main man and I can't tell you anything about Herr Witt's history, alas, because in spite of his doubtless towering fame in Germany I've never heard of him before, but I can tell you that these days he plays a kind of avuncular AOR. The band chug through a selection of mid-tempo rock workouts, throwing shapes and getting down like good 'uns (nice to see Derek Smalls from Spinal Tap guesting on bass, by the way), and the crowd - or at least the AOR contingent of it - appreciates them wildly. But it's a curiously stop-start set. Just when things look like they're hitting some sort of stride, Herr Witt brings the proceedings to a halt by indulging in extended, low-key conversations with people in the crowd, apparently forgetting that he's supposed to be in the middle of a gig. As a result of these bizarrely extended chat-to-the-fans intervals, the band runs out of time, and are hustled away by the stage manager without any kind of climax or finale. Herr Witt just shruggingly walks off, apparently unconcerned. I'm left with the distinct impression that whatever the man's rock star past, he's just coasting now.
On this occasion I'm heading to the Moritzbastei, a subterranean warren of vaults and chambers dug into the earth of Old Saxony. This bizarre but charming venue effectively amounts to the cellars of Leipzig's medieval fortifications, now long demolished above ground, but still seething with life below. The
particular form of life that's on stage as I walk in is Charlotte's
Shadow, a band who have multinational origins. They come
from Spain, via Germany and Ireland, and do a kind of Robert-Smith-sings-the-Sisters
take on what we in the UK woulkd call trad-goth. You can figure out
their influences without too much difficulty - the usual vintage goth
suspects, basically - but the singer's voice, pitched at an angsty yelp,
as if he's suddenly discovered his new dog has chewed up the living
room carpet, gives the band their own identity. The songs are uptempo
workouts, rattling along with a verve that's almost cheery, and, somewhat
surprisingly, because I seldom get into the trad-goth zone with any
enthusiasm, I find myself quite liking the band.
Many UK bands would insist that without being able to draw upon such advantages the WGT door is forever firmly closed, but Zeitgeist Zero prove that it ain't necessarily so. They're an up-and-coming UK band, pure and simple - and yet they've wangled themselves a WGT slot. It just goes to show: it can be done. So,
let's see 'em do it. Zeitgeist Zero are a three-piece. Two blokes loom
in the background on guitar and electronix, while the band is fronted
by a feistly young miss in fearsome boots. This is Teresa Dead, who
has clearly put herself into Maximum Stomp mode for this show. The music
is a pell-mell racket of thunderous beats and roaring guitar - very
English, in a way, in its mash-up of goth, industrial, techno and the
kitchen sink. Teresa stomps and shrieks and tantrums her way through
every song, as if she's a naughty child who's just been sent to bed
without any tea. Her performance is a bizarre amalgam of Diamanda Galas
and Violet Elizabeth Bott, and that's the beauty if it. Nobody else
at the WGT is going to do it like this, so I think Zeitgeist Zero can
be sure they've made an impact. You see? It can be done!
As
ever with this sort of band, I'm not quite sure if the keyboard player
is actually doing anything, or if she's just for show, to disguise the
fact that the performance is a backing track jobbie. At any rate, when
a sudden glitch occurs, and the sound entirely cuts out, the keyboard
player just stands there, bemused, while the singer and a techie bloke
who suddenly emerges from the shadows try to fix the problem, which
kind of drops a hint that she's not really hands-on. When the sound
suddenly bursts back into life, the vocalist casts his eyes heavenwards
in gratitude and says, 'I promise I won't write so many songs about
God!' That little fragment of wit is, incongruously, the best thing
about Culture Kultur's show. In other respects, it's all a standard
beats-on-backing workout. Competently done, mind...but standard.
For extra excitement, Schattenslag also feature two hawt elektro chyk dancers, who, unfortunately, don't seem to have worked out any real routines. They just jiggle about a bit. The nearest we get to choreographed moves is when they walk in to the centre of the stage, stand there grinning at each other, and then walk back to the sides again, where they...jiggle about a bit. Even the most enthusiastic fans of hawt elektro chyks must surely regard all this as a bit half-arsed. I mean, nice boots and all, but this is the Wave Gotik Treffen. Everyone in town is wearing nice boots. If you're going to get on stage and dance, you've got to do it properly! Meanwhile,
the vocalist gesticulates and rasps away out front, and the slammin'
beats continue to slam. The EBM heads down the front clearly think it's
all rather wonderful, but I'm underwhelmed. I think it's time to stage
a graceful exit, and come out again tomorrow for some spiky-top shennanigans
with some deathrock bands. Does that sound like a plan? OK, we're outta
here.
This way for the Wave Gotik Treffen - part three Back to the Wave Gotik Treffen - part one
Essential links: Hatesex:
Website | Myspace Wave Gotik Treffen: Website | Myspace | Livejournal For more photos from the WGT, find the bands by name here. |
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Page credits: Review,
photos and construction by Michael Johnson. |
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