When: 31st May 2014
Where: Camden Town, various venues.
Reviewers: Millie Manders, Alex Holbourn, Jamie Kerr, James Reeve and Dan Stoten
There's a really special feeling in Camden. The town feels like a living thing, with its musical limbs sprawling around, each producing something different. Around every corner and just down the road there's a bassline, a beat and people getting stuck into beer and fun. The day, sunny as we're all so pleased it is, brings the musicians out into the streets too and they're playing all over town and down by the river. The festival has taken over and there's a good positivity in the streets. It's almost as if the music is the backdrop, not the buildings and trees. A proper street party in between the venues, this is a celebration of Camden and all it offers as much as it is about the music.
The first band of the day at Dingwalls, Walk The Night start their set just after midday and, predictably, the crowd are not with them from the off. Most are halfway from the front, some are propping up the bar right at the back waking themselves up with beer. But then the band start playing and you can feel the energy in the room build, almost immediately. By the end of the first song What Are You Waiting For?, the festival could be several hours in. By the end of the third song, half of the crowd are down at the front and we're away.Walk The Night, a four piece with a front man so talented that it almost feels like perhaps Prince has nipped in and is up to his old tricks again, play confident, anthemic stuff. They litter soaring guitar solos and bold, floodlit acapellas amongst well-polished and neatly structured songs, mostly loud but a couple a bit gentler, in a set that lasts about half an hour but, for the richness and variety of the music, feels much longer. The lead singer, all hair and bravado, controls his band and the audience and is a real focal point, a proper front man and entertainer.
A genre-enthusiast might call their music ‘classic rock’, and that would certainly be one way to describe it, but they're simply a really good band who will probably be much higher up the bill next year.
Ugly Love played at the same time but a little further up Camden's High Street in Barfly. Having torn the roof off at Takedown Festival earlier this year, a fairly sparse but expectant crowd of dedicated followers were in for a real treat. Ugly Love are not just sound musicians, but also true performers, with Thomas Adolph, their enigmatic frontman, leading the band and crowd in a joyous and energetic style. Improving with every performance, this is a band with catchy, bouncy anthems which will get your feet moving, and definitely helped wake up a sleepy, sunny Camden.
Off to the Black Heart next, a dark, ominous pub which your average hipster would probably quiver in fear stepping over the threshold. This made it the perfect setting for a Death Koolaid set. However, before we get into that, we need to stress how hot their lead singer is. Siren Sycho is a screaming, gyrating, ripped alt-goddess who doubles as an alt-model when not fronting her band.
On stage she is like a woman possessed.
Death Koolaid opened the stage at midday with denim, studs, skin, paint, gimp masks and fire red liquid in glass flasks that they chugged down between songs. God only knows what was in it: some hardened looking guys in the audience didn't look so hard after trying it, so we weren't about to. Whatever it was lived up to the namesake of the band…
The band deliver hardcore-punk-metal with a viciousness that is hard to rival or compare. Siren clearly needs more room to run around. She climbs over monitors and the PA and smacks the microphone into her head so hard by the end of the set she has a welt. The entire band are like a coiled spring. So much energy and nowhere to force it out but my word do they push it. Hell fire across an audience forcibly woken by this wall of awesome noise.
These guys would clearly be comfortable playing to thousands. This unexpecting crowd got punched in the face musically and anyone there should feel lucky they were able to see it.
Upstairs in The Hawley Arms they're running a bit behind schedule, so we catch Weatherbird, also the first band of the day. There are four members in the corner of the room and they have a very receptive, but not particularly energetic audience. A bit timid at first they are at their best when they lose the lyrics, get a bit heavier and get stuck into playing some of their instrumental parts. When they do, it just feels like we're watching some mates jam. They forget the crowd and they look much more at ease. It's intense, heavy, bass-driven stuff, and needs to be much louder.
Described on their website by someone as a ‘grunge Supergrass’, which feels about right, they really do make a great sound but then tend to fall just a bit short in the chorus. Clearly they're a talented bunch of lads, with a quality drummer, but the audience would feel they want just a bit more from the set. It's good stuff, but it's not massively memorable.
There always is one, so a brief mention for the low point of the day: Healthy Junkies. A four piece, who seem to be far more concerned about their rocker image than their anything else and who play the kind of music that would make you turn to look at your mate with silent horror and go off the bar.
They crash through a few of their hits, including one difficult number introduced as ‘a song about witches!’ by their female lead ‘singer’ before hurtling into the breaking point, for me at least. A minute and a half of a song in which the lead singer screams at the bewildered crowd "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, you’re such a hypocrite". This doesn't feel good, and, apart from one suspiciously similarly dressed man, tapping his knee and nodding his head, the crowd aren't feeling very positive in here, on this beautiful sunny day in Camden by the canal. It's confusing and it's time to leave.
One of the highlights of the day, Remote View, described by the girl in front of me texting her mate as ‘Some college band. Pretty good jazz fusion’, are a London-based bluesy, funk band, with (a perhaps) French, disgustingly handsome lead singer. Playing in what feels like an ideal venue for them, The Cuban, each of their upbeat and cheerful songs takes you off in one way and then away in an unexpected, pleasing direction. Controlled expertly by their drummer, they speed things up and slow them down, at times changing tempo and key simultaneously. Each of their songs is a chance for the musicians to show their talents. They embrace so many different styles of music in their set and are a complete package. It feels like a band that you need to listen with a bit of focus and isn't background music.
A very popular and inventive rendition of All Along The Watchtower provides the foundation for a drum, bass and two guitar solos, one by the lead man and one by the lead guitarist. There's a bit too much face pulling during some of those solos, but you can see why they are getting carried away. The smiles on the band's faces throughout show how much of a special occasion this is for them and just how much they love doing this. One of the last songs in the set is introduced as only having just been finished, a couple of days ago, and as having taken 6 months to complete. They're perfectionists. And to listen, you can see why. It's intricate and deliberate, full of changes and surprises and is absolutely brilliant. These are four really talented musicians and a properly fun and creative band.
Chasing Cadence are a hard rocking band with a sprinkle of pop punk from Hertfordshire. Good looking lads clad in skinny jeans and t-shirts, they open their set by exploding from the stage and onto the dance floor creating a four man mosh pit with guitars and mics in hand: if you thought they looked cute as they were setting up and line checking, they instantly proved they are anything but.
This attack of intensity in motion is sustained throughout Chasing Cadence's set, with Jack running from stage to door weaving in and out of the crowd singing and screaming his soul to freedom.
The music they play is tight, fast, furious skate punk. The vocals rip from Jack's throat as ascending melodies and scathing screams. We were a little mesmerised by them. Chasing Cadence owned their day at Camden Rocks.
A slight niggle, however: the lyrics for the main part were inaudible, even with the clean vocals. Not the fault of the band of course, this lies with the soundman, but ultimately it marred the experience when the songs are well structured and the performance was kick-ass. Having said that, the performance would have made anyone want to listen again to delve into the content of their songs.
As a band, they've been making waves since 2012, picking up endorsements from Orange Amps, Alibi Clothing and Dovetail Strings and support slots with big names like Taking Back Sunday. They will also be hitting the Red Bull Stage at Download this summer. Their performance at Camden Rocks proves why. They deserve all of the recognition they are getting right now.
While all this had been going on, over at The Good Mixer on The Punk Archive stage, stellar sets had been delivered from Fur Cough, The Cramatics and The Derellas. All three bands will have won new fans on the strengths of their sets, as the small pub became more and more of a sweat-box of guitar-fuelled passion.
Verses had also taken to The Underworld's famous stage. Here are a hugely professional four-piece, their set reflecting that professionalism. Brilliantly rounded, melodic rock music, their set provided a perfect bridge from the midday drowsiness to the afternoon's energetic drinking session. Hugely talented, they're a band not to miss.
Bandanas, hair straighteners, leather jeans and cut off vests aplenty. That's just The Wild Lies’ dressing room.
These guys are unabashed, pure cock-rock, hair–metal Gods. Gyrating, mic-stand humping and hair swinging is their speciality and a vocal range that rivals Mariah Carey spasms forth over tom-alicious drumming and riff-tastic guitars. The Wild Lies are in the building and this is their first song.
Aerosmith, Guns n Roses, Twisted Sister… If these are in your record collection you will love these boys. Cheesier than a teenage boy's feet after a two mile sprint but with the ability to make sure the crowd is absolutely loving it.
Chugga-chugga guitars and four to the floor beats, impeccable vocals and harmonies (seriously. This guy’s voice is incredible) have the audience hooked. We are all drawn in, mesmerised by what is ultimately a real “show”. Well put together, even getting in some synchronised head banging and hair swinging for good measure.
By the time the set is through, the band and crowd are hot and sweaty and everyone has had a great time shouting “hell yeah” back and forth and fist pumped the air above their heads till their forearms wilted.
For anyone that still likes their punk to hold hands with political standpoints, you are going to love this band.I've seen these guys play several times, I'm a huge fan and standing at stage front with my pen and pad I cannot tell you how excited I was for the Riskee boys to get down to business with their full band set (having played an acoustic set earlier in the day).
Scott rocks out onto the stage and opens his mouth and heart shouting out poignant, political, poetry perfection as a prelude to what was a tremendous slam down of a set. Riskee and The Ridicule are old school, right from the community-fuelled attitude of love to the collared t shirts, vests, braces and boots. Their songs are hard hitting, catchy and punk proud. They tell us “we may be on a small stage now, but watch! We will get bigger!” and every one of the packed crowd in The Good Mixer knows that is the absolute truth. It's not arrogance. It's fact.
Riskee and The Ridicule clearly have a decent following already: plenty of people there were singing along from the get-go and plenty more joined in. For an early afternoon set these guys have managed to get people jumping. Literally. Third song in and I'm taking notes mid-mosh and loving every second. They definitely walked away with a whole new load of loyal fans. It was a Riskee Revolution, make no mistake!
It’s tangible. This is the sort of band that makes the air around you feel electric. It's exciting and addictive. The fact that they had a guest bassist who had one rehearsal prior wasn't even noticeable. Not a note out of place. They might be playing small venues now, but they are already performing like pros.
Not only that, they are down to earth, humble people making awesome music. After their set the boys are swamped. They had a load of free demos and they'd been taken within minutes. They made a serious impression on everyone there. Their Camden Rocks performance was the best set of theirs I've seen so far and I expect the next time I see them will best it again.
Walking back into The Black Heart’s live music room with little, what to expect, Crystal Seagulls were next. Unknown to us, the smattering of people didn't pique confidence particularly.
The band opened up with cool confidence and well structured, well played melodic indie rock was presented to us. Beautiful guitar riffs, clean and crisp with hook filled songs were a very pleasant surprise. By the third song the crowd stopped politely nodding, tripled in size and moved right to the front of the stage to sway along and scream in thanks at the end of each tune.
Happily, any trepidation was unfounded, having also since discovered their music was used as the soundtrack to the Isle of Weight Festival 2013 where they played the Big Top stage and will be playing it again this year along side Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Biffy Clyro. Crystal Seagulls have managed to pay homage to several decades of rock n roll whilst carving their own niche in the indie-rock genre. A must see.
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Following on from their fantastic acoustic set earlier in the day at The Forge, we were keen to get down to the Electric Ballroom and see if Blitz Kids could deliver the same performance as a full band. Having also watched them open the Main Stage at Slam Dunk Midlands just a few days before, we knew what these boys were capable of and were therefore expecting much of the same. We were not disappointed. Right from the off the band came out full of energy, with front man Joe James' huge stage presence leading the line and giving the crowd the performance they came to see.The band delivered a super slick set consisting of hits On My Own, Run For Cover and the hugely infectious Sometimes, leaving the audience with another impressive performance. It looks like all the hard work these guys have put in over the years has paid off and 2014 looks to be theirs based on this showing.
The next round of bands included some truly incredible sets. Crazy Arm, for example, absolutely smashed a completely rammed Black Heart. The venue was so full people were even out the door, on the stairs, listening to the Plymouth punks deliver a rousing set of sing-along, politically-motivated, raucous street-punk. As a live band they're a truly stunning proposition, while also retaining that crucial humility which makes bands something special. Despite being crammed in the corner and unable to see, it's impossible to not have a good time while listening to Crazy Arm perform live. Go see them if you can.
Longy were next over at Dingwalls. When the sound guys clear the stage, one man strolls confidently onto the stage, guitar in hand. The guy has this look on his face, something close to tiredness, maybe a kind of world-weariness. He stands casually, up there at the front, the least nervous man ever seen, and opens with an apology that his bassist isn't with him and that if we want to we should just imagine the bass line. This is a man in control of the moment.
Breaking immediately into a reverb-heavy guitar only song, the venue is virtually silent, captivated by this beautiful melancholy. The end of the opening song almost comes as a surprise, snaps people out of their daze and draws great applause. We're eager for more.
A few chords into the third song, a trumpet sounds from the back of the room, a short sharp tune, a fanfare to announce the player's own arrival. Up he goes to the stage and Longy and the trumpeter (referred to as The Feral Child) duet on a couple more songs. The trumpet is a nice contrast to the guitar and vocals, playing long, drawn out notes and not too many of them. A couple of songs later, a drummer (who looks about 15 but plays like he's been playing for 15 years) joins them on stage, the performance building and building, becoming more complete and ever more engaging. They're louder by this point, more energetic and the trumpet is livelier. While at the beginning of the set, he was rocking back and forwards on the soles of his feet, he's back and forth across the stage now. The sound isn't as rich as it could have been with the missing bassist, and he's aware enough to ask the sound man to crank the bass up a bit to compensate. The set is full of well-rounded songs and every one is followed with massive congratulations from the crowd.
At the end of this incredible gig, he sends his love out of the doors and back to his mate, the missing bassist, and ‘his old man’ in Essex, to more cheering. There's some interesting talk about the band around the internet, including some intriguing bits about headlining Glastonbury. As far-fetched as this may be, even that wouldn't faze him.
It's now 5pm, the afternoon flying by. The Barfly is packed. Hot, sweaty, pulsing. Making my way to the front slowly, people are talking about missing other acts in order to see this one.
The set up feels like it is taking forever. Seven minutes to go and the drums aren't set up. As yet, a guitar hasn't been seen. Initial thought? Judging by the atmosphere alone this is going to be massive.
They are ready. The drummer walks on in bare feet and shorts ripped from crotch to thigh. A three piece that looks like they have just come from a garage party that got seriously heavy. Good.
Gnarwolves are pure skate punk, the kind of songs you'd hear on an old Bam Margera video and then spend the weekend finding every magazine interview possible in your local newsie and their entire record back catalogue in HMV, even ordering it in if necessary in order to feed your new obsession. If you couldn't afford that you'd beg your friends to make you a tape of theirs. Yes. Tape.
This three piece band make more noise than you would think possible. It was an instant mosh pit. Like every muscle of every person there had been held tight, waiting for the first chord to drop in order to unleash their fury. A seething mass of arms behind me as I’m scrawling my excitement onto my note pad.
The fans know the words, the breaks, the builds. They are hungry for everything Gnarwolves are about to feed them.
The drummer's arms are tight. Small movements everywhere but his wrists. The sticks are a blur and every sinew is visible from shoulder to finger tip. Each tempo change is expertly executed. This is the band that will have you ignoring your muscles screaming in pain in order to carry on head banging and flailing. Like a battery on your tongue Gnarwolves will rip you awake and melt your face with their screams, dreams and sick ass riffs.
Gnarwolves are playing some of the biggest festivals around the UK and Europe this summer so if you find yourself at on of them, make sure you take the time to get to their set.
We're big fans of Bleach Blood here at The Punk Archive and their Camden Rocks set showed just why. Following the gig, Jamie Jazz sent a text telling us that he didn't think it was their best performance. If this was a bad show, then a good one would probably be the best hour of your life, ever. Bleach Blood absolutely smashed the Monarch, despite a slightly awkward crowd a little unsure of whether to step forward or not. What really stood out was the band's songwriting genius, and their ability to find and hold some deliciously sweet melodies and harmonies. The right amount of pent-up aggression and frustration combined with an indie-punk feel, and some typically jerky movements from Jamie: this was a spot-on set.
The Talks are a bunch of great lads from Hull. Their buoyant, reggae-tinged ska is completed with a superb keyboardist who brings everything together. We're by the door, barely able to get in but people squeezing in and out, smiles on their faces. “He’s absolutely brilliant” says one bloke. Another lady cups her hand over my ear and delights in the fact that she “can’t believe that ska music is this popular and this good. It was my life, 30 years ago!” There's a really warm, upbeat atmosphere in The Good Mixer and it feels very much like this is the right place to be.
They ask if anyone in the room is from Hull and a third of the hands go up, while half the room cheers. The packed in crowd are completely with them and squashed up next to the microphones. It's raucous and loud and a couple of the mics are knocked over during the gig, the bassist is crashed into, without a break in the performance. The band are part of the party, they just happen to be playing the instruments, and they look completely at home here. They bounce through their own songs, written for gigs like this, to be performed and enjoyed live, and go onto play a couple of covers, a Max Romeo tune and a cracking cover of a Specials song.
By the end of the 40 minute set, the room is sweaty, exhausted and delighted. It’s really great stuff and they're massively recommended.
Colt 45 at Brewdog were next on the agenda. Why? Well, two reasons simply: great beer, followed by an even greater hard rock band. So it was to unfortunate surprise that in this, their first of two sets, they had been placed in the downstairs area, where it held a maximum of roughly thirty people. Unfortunately, arriving a little late was an issue. Standing at the back, it was hard to stop thinking that it was far too hot and that they should have played upstairs. The band played well, especially considering how the room was filled with the stench of sweat and fake lager.
The Undivided followed Colt 45 onto the stage. They play some nice, melodic stuff, the backing guitar finger-picking along in good support of the main bulk of the band. There's some good banter with the small, seated crowd and it's a pleasant atmosphere down here. They're probably not an acoustic band though and they feel a bit out of their comfort zone. The vocalist, whose voice mostly sounds great, loses his way a bit when he breaks into shouting, which makes the band sound a bit like a Welsh Dashboard Confessional. The contrast with the relaxed, dimly-lit venue is very noticeable.
One of the strengths of the set is the vocal harmonies that they put together. Well-rehearsed, all four have microphones and sing different parts. But it all sounds quite similar. It would be good to hear them play a full volume set, to let the bass off its leash, really get going and play loud enough to make the angst-filled vocals feel a bit more at home.
Next up for was Nine Black Alps, and over to James: Back in 2005, a friend of mine put their headphones on and said "You NEED to listen to this". This was the first time I'd heard Nine Black Alps, them having released their sensational hit Not Everyone. At the time I remember thinking that this band was going to go far and (in true teen style) felt happier knowing I'd heard them before anyone else. So it did come as a shock when they sort of died down afterwards, but I still knew they had to be seen to be believed.
At first they started a little slow. Mildly entertaining, yet myself and the crowd found ourselves mostly stood still, sipping away at overpriced beer wondering if we should be moving on elsewhere. But as the show progressed, the band started to open up. The venue started to fill up more, and people were starting to remember why these four guys from Manchester make a decent rock band. Playing songs such as Unsatisfied and Novocaine made it a good show, but not one I'd expect to stay with me forever.
Festival headliners, The Subways, completely packed out The Electric Ballroom, for the climax of the day (for most) and they're cracking, an ideal headline act. They play a set sung along with by the thousand or so people. Many people in the room seem surprised at how many songs they recognise and just how good the band are. For a three-piece, the sound they make is so full and energetic. They blaze through a performance of their extensive back catalogue, peaking at Rock and Roll Queen, which is met with deafening excitement.
A really high quality performance and a fantastic choice of headline act.
A little later on, we were reminded that Slaves were playing. Over to James again: "Brilliant!" I thought. I've been a fan of Dance Gavin Dance for quite some time, and had heard some of Johnny Craig's new material in the band Slaves. So you can imagine the excitement that went through me to find out they were playing. Turns out, there is another band called Slaves. A simple duo hailing from Kent, playing 'grotty' garage punk. As I made my way to the front, all I can say is that I entered confused as to who these two nut-cases were, and left utterly blown away.
The sheer energy throughout their performance was astounding, and the crowd was easily taking it all in. With songs like Where's Your Car Debbie and Okay blasted around the tiny pub that is Hawley Arms, there was much to appreciate, and they were a great way to end the day. This is a band that's easily worth seeing again, and I happily would. Am I happy that it was this duo instead of the American hardcore group? Definitely.
The day wasn't over yet, however. Colt 45 played their second set of the day up at The Enterprise, and were well worth the long walk, despite gig-weary legs. The retro-feel of The Enterprise provided the perfect backdrop for the Cumbrian punk'n'rollers, who each downed two or three Jagerbombs before taking to the stage. Soon to release a new album, the band played songs from that and their previous EPs. They're another band it's impossible to keep still to. They were even worth the significant, mohawk-targeted wrath of the huge crowd watching the boxing downstairs on entry and leaving the venue...
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| Photo Credit: Luke Pappin |
After squeezing my way past a fair number of people who I assumed weren't as keen for this as I was, I was overjoyed to see Sam appear on stage accompanied by just his guitar. Having seen GCWCF a couple of years ago as a full band, I remember leaving the gig wondering if I would have enjoyed a solo performance more. Tonight answered that question and I was delighted by how many classics from The Chronicles Of A Bohemian Teenager were played, particular highlights being Call Me Ishmael and Glass Houses. A truly mesmerising performance that took me back to 2007 when I couldn't get enough of The Chronicles… with it's catchy hooks and heartfelt lyrics. An awesome performance to end an awesome day at Camden Rocks.
And that was it for us. Camden Rocks was over. Well, for the live music part anyway. What followed was an afterparty, and a hangover we'd quite like to forget.
Or at least until next year's...
We at The Punk Archive would like to extend a personal thank you to Chris McCormack for having us on board with Camden Rocks 2014. As a website we are truly honoured that Chris gave us the chance to sponsor a stage and be a part of what is one of the best one day festivals the world has to offer. Thank you, Chris.
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