Reviewed by Adam Piotrowski photographs by Kevin Gaughan
In three-piece bands, there really is nowhere to hide – every player must stack up and carry their weight, especially grassroots bands who aren’t relying on backing tracks or any nifty tricks. Brighton’s Bones Ate Arfa were pure and real, relying on youthful exuberance, dirty dirty riffs and walls of fuzzy psychedelic noise, never sounding thin or as if they were missing something.
They were kind of like an unconventional Blink 182 if they dropped out of school, lived in a dark basement, smoked weed – maybe dropped a bit of acid – and had a love child with the Dandy Warhols and Queens of the Stone Age. ‘Junkyard Punk’ is the term that keeps getting bandied about to describe them, which I had never heard before, but can now understand having seen – and heard – them.
Songs are equally as likely to have a catchy bounciness as be distorted and screamy. It was loud, fast, hard and brash, but they also had a knack for creating moments, some of which slowed down a bit and allowed a moment to reflect. Moments when you weren’t sure if it was a breakdown or a transition – droney minimal noise guitars repeating and building tension, going on for ages, but never too long. One such moment found the drummer 8 (the band is named after the three members of the band, 8 becoming ‘ate’) detaching a small piece of percussion from his kit and making his way to the very back of the venue, by the entrance, then snaking and circling his way through the crowd tap-tap-tapping on his block, daring the audience not to get interested, before eventually making it back to the stage.
These moments never felt forced or gimmicky, but added to the unique live atmosphere. Special shout-out to the drummer, who, along with the other two in the band, played with a fierce combination of thrash and precision. There was a certain level of showmanship – but in a nonchalant self-aware kind of way – as they jumped, swung their long hair around, held guitars and drumsticks to the sky and a brief political statement when the bassist/vocalist showed the back of his instrument which read ‘F**k Ice.’
But we were not bogged down by unnecessary monologues, instead we enjoyed a relentless onslaught of rock – it was much more than rock, really but it was still in essence, rooted in rock and roll in the best kind of way. The guitarist shredded and chopped with purpose, providing backing vocals to fill out the sound. The bass often had an effect that raised the pitch, mimicking a guitar to provide even more muscle to keep things moving at breakneck speed.
You could tell the act had been road tested and the playing was tight and cohesive. All the best to them as they soon will be making their way through Western Europe on an 11 date tour.
The opening act was also very enjoyable – Injury Detail – a local alt rock group of 4, returning after a hiatus. I found myself convinced that they had modelled themselves on alternative mainstays such as Muse and the heavier riffier Radiohead tunes, and just when I thought it was predictable they paid homage to rootsy classic rock – a melody that brought to mind Jethro Tull, the hard edged, bluesy riffs of Black Sabbath and Cream and a lead harmonic guitar reminiscent of Steely Dan. There was a good mix of genres and influences to keep things interesting without compromising the overall sound.
Injury Detail seem to be playing a lot of opening slots around Leicester since the start of the year, so keep your ears out for them. Their next show is at Firebug on 17 April, supporting Nottingham Grunge / Slacker Rock Duck Jumper.