"Bit Boo-sy" Beats Boulder Bivouac
NoLoGos 21-7-01 Terrorshed, Junk Culture, Cody
The influence of a newly-emboldened Kerrang readership
is finally starting to filter through to the local music scene, and not a
moment too soon. It’s all to easy to imagine how just twelve months ago,
Terrorshed’s simple songs would have been delivered in a whine that havered
between arrogance and self-pity. Now, thank God, it’s like Liverpool
has finally grown a pair. With a firmly entrenched punk-rriot underground,
the city is well placed to clean up on the post-Bizkit loud squall, and if
that means more bands like Terrorshed, then I’m cancelling my plans to
go and live in a Bivouac in Boulder. Just seconds after they leave the stage,
before even the dust settles, it occurs to me who the ‘shed remind me
of: The Boo Radleys. EARLY Boos. Before Sice cut his hair off.
Fuck me – it’s Christian Slater on lead vocals, aided by a chap
in an ill-chosen hat, possibly the bald one out the Inspiral Carpets and,
oh, a couple of others. Even before they start, as they fanny about over the
dj set, it’s clear that Junk Culture are aiming to funk with our asses;
something they proceed to do effortlessly and efficiently. Hendrixesque, only
with keyboards and a sound as wide as Wales; becoming Coldcut later; fair.
You can’t read too much into them apparently being slated for an upcoming
episode of Buffy; ironically, if they lack anything it’s the ethereal
otherness of your usual Bronze guest slot group. If they are earthed a little
heavily, it’s all the better to throw you to the floor.
They cover Polly Harvey. That’s all you really need to know. Cody are
the punk Corrs. Or maybe the result of this week’s challenge on Big Brother.
It’s hard to say. Of course, they’re feigning their anger, but the
purists are faking their outrage just as hard. In your face like a Merseyside
cop with a can of CS gas, they’re entirely superfluous, sexy, and wrong.
I’ll take a dozen, unwrapped, thanks.
- Simon Budgen
