It feels like I’m coming out of hibernation... following a man-flu infested Christmas and a gig-free January (the first such month since July 2013...), it feels like the year’s finally getting under way with this, the first of two in two nights, and 5 in Feb! After seeing splendid young bucks Get Inuit at Start The Bus in November (gig 965), I’d described their sound as a plethora of summery powerpop bands distilled down through a distinctly 2015 filter; however after picking up the buoyant guitar noise of their 9-track EP, it kinda came down to 2, namely Silver Sun and The Candyskins, locked in a scrap over who gets the last sunbed. Certainly enough to drag this old rocker down to Bristol on a school night for some surf-punk infused fun!
So
I hit the road at 7 and easily found the Exchange (a new one on me),
parking down the road and hitting this scuzzy rabbit warren venue (which
recalled Southampton’s fine Joiner’s Arms) midway
through openers Many Monika. A trio fronted by an androgynous but
hirsute male vocalist with quite the highest-pitched lilt I’ve heard
since Sweet Jesus’s Ben Bentley, only with a similarly fey speaking
voice. Despite a poor early turnout (about half a dozen
punters and assorted Get Inuit chaps), he gamely shook his booty
onstage to some punchy glam pop, of which penultimate number, “Suburbia”
was the best, a Lou Reed style street story set to some VU-esque droney
guitar. Not bad for starters, and better than
the next band up, local lot Van Zeller. Following a somewhat fiddly
soundcheck, they took the stage to a suddenly full and fulsomely
enthusiastic home crowd (clearly
everyone they knew...), and played some high-octane and driving but formulaic and ham-fisted rock, which went down well with
da yoof. Not for me though, so I passed the time chatting with
various passing members of Get Inuit, vocalist Jamie popping over having
remembered me from Start The Bus, which was nice.
Everyone
fucked off after Van Zeller! As tour support Fish Tank soundchecked, I
commented to a fellow punter that there was a crowd here, once... So
Fish Tank again came onstage to a small clutch
of interested punters, but, undeterred, they set to their task with
gusto. Another 3 piece, they had the right attitude (evinced by the
bespectacled vocalist’s opening shout of, “Oi! Smokers outside! Fish
Tank are on!”), and an immediately evident ear for
a snappy, Britpop-influenced tune. Clearly of a similar hue to their
tour buddies and headliners, their set was upbeat, spritely, hook-laden
and eminently listenable crunchy guitar pop with some modish
push’n’shove rhythms. No little humour either; early between-song
banter consisted of, “small talk between songs but keep short!” and new
single “The Bend” was introduced with, “this is our next single, we
hope you like it ‘cos if you don’t we’re fucked!” This toughened-up
number featured some intricate guitar picking from
said vocalist, plus some Frank Turner-esque bellowing during the
strident chorus. By the cacophonous climax of finale “Wizard” they’d
enticed a good crowd back. Good set – good band!
So
again, a bit of a wait in an empty room (where does everyone go?) as
Get Inuit set up. Rather than issuing a bolshy rallying cry to start
their set, however, they kicked straight into opener,
the glorious helium pop of “Mean Heart” bang on 10. The irresistible
mutant surf-psychobilly gallop of “I Would” was next up, and I rocked
out as best my dodgy and heavily strapped knee would allow (dancing from
the hips up these days, guys...!). Vocalist
Jamie promised us, “a margarine tub of songs!” and delivered them with
soaring, nasally tinged vocals and an energetic, kinetic and pliable
performance, ably backed up by his equally up-for-it bandmates. The
quiet/loud dynamics of newie “Barbiturates” featured
some pregnant pause mucking about and playful “Sweet Child Of Mine”
riffery, also showing a hitherto-unseen darker edge to their rampantly
optimistic guitar pop, whilst “My Oh My” possessed a singalong, Buddy
Holly-like chorus hook and deserves to be a Summer
smash. Some Fish Tank baiting and drummer Rob’s repeated playing of the
“Seinfeld” theme on a beatbox provided some between-song fun, and “Pro
Procastinator” was again a flappy-gummed quickfire pseudo New Wave
delight. All too soon, the set was done, Jamie
remarking, “time for bed, take your calpol!” to the young crowd, before
the soaring chorus of final number “I Am The Hot Air” concluded a set
which for me cemented Get Inuit as a very very promising band indeed,
and hopefully a regular on future gig itineraries.
All
splendid chaps too, writing some lovely compliments on my setlist
afterwards, and a quick chat with Jamie onstage revealed he’d checked
out – and loved – Silver Sun following my recommendation.
Cool! A damn fine way to kick off 2016’s gigging year overall, and you
bet I’ll be back for more Get Inuit!
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