Saturday, 10 January 2009

Dethscalator, Actionbeat At Buffalo Bar, London

Noise in relation to sound equals meaningless sound of greater than usual volume, in tonight’s case the exact opposite is true. This evening’s Plan B curated event could do with some amplification boosting Viagra as the volume remains relatively limp and muted in comparison to the potential that lies beneath. It’s all very civilized and a bit pedestrian over enemy lines as the no mans land between audience and band remains untouched, the intensity of each artist’s performance not wholly reciprocated by tonight’s attendees.
Hailing from Stoke Newington, Dethscalator swamp the venue with their Iron Monkey tinged crust punk. Like they’ve been sipping from the same stagnant waters as High on Fire or Pissed Jeans (without the sleazy front man), they concoct a sludgy beverage of one doom laden dirge after another, accompanied by spasmodic vocals, like some sort of warped sloth hybrid creature.
Having shared bills with Acid Mothers Temple and Whitehouse, lumping them with the slowed down punk tag is more than a little lazy, Electric Wizard they aint. Lead singer Dan is a bear of a man with Ozzy Osbourne/ David Yow vocals, hollering into the microphone. He blunders off of the curb sized platform that constitutes the stage into the audience to be met with little noteworthy response.
At the right frequency and in the right atmosphere Dethscalator could send you into a spellbinding trance, but there isn’t enough contagious head nodding or distorted walls of sound to envelope the intimate crowd space and unfortunately there appears to be little chance of hypnotic slumber this time.
Truth Cult’s Action Beat, self confessed rapists and molesters of detuned guitars and old drum kits, stream into the venue with a conveyor belt of instruments, their gig roster consisting of whoever is available to play on the night. Despite their description as convicted noise-ophiles, Action Beat isn’t a collection of Providence, Rhode Island loft apartment artists one might expect but rather ‘The Noise Band from Bletchley’.
The ease and the unpretentious atmosphere of the evening makes it all the more enjoyable as their conventional rock n roll indie instrumental develops into something wild, feral and…noisier. Melt Banana, frenetic ‘Boredomesesque’, they beat with such ferocity until the clothes are peeled off and the torsos bared as the group are circled by the audience who look from the outside in on the menagerie and the chaos that ensues.
The audience, band participation remains low, set up like a circular human Stonehenge, the band look like conduits evoking the noise deities in order to gratify their own interests rather than anyone else’s.
The group dissolves into a blur of arms and legs, flailing around like a seven headed aural monster from Grecian mythology; Action Beat conduct energy of Lightening Bolt proportions with at least three times the man power.
As their set evolves, just as the band start to get interesting, they announce their last song ending the short but sweet love affair we have and at one fell swoop our relationship is no longer.

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