bassists = cuntfacesstereotype. Everything he said was retarded at he looked like a bad mix between Jack Osbourne and DVD. I was later to successful persuade David's hottest dog, Muffin, to consume the free plastic demo CD Wammie obtained from them.
In comparison, Amplifier weren't all that offensive and, while I wouldn't rate them as something amazingly special, they certainly qualified as at least "good". Hilariously, I lost count of the number of effects pedals they used at about thirty four. The first couple of songs were pretty rocking but turned out to be indistinguishable from the remainder of their set. Still, I felt they were worthy of my money and hence purchased a decent enough single.
But really the whole night was about Winnebago Deal. I first encountered this band over eight months ago when David and I spontaneously decided that it'd be nice to see Kinesis again. It turned out to be a fantastic gig even without the whole Rachel fiasco and Winnebago Deal actually really stood out that evening. Never before had I seen some much energy come from just a guitar and some drums. Two blokes with stupid long hair and the same name manically thrashed and squealed to about three people on a tiny stage. They treated me to by far the loudest gig ever – I was still suffering from tinnitus almost a week later. I bought the mini-album at once (I was even willing to withdraw cash from those private cash machines with an exorbitant charge built in) and repeatedly revelled in their bone crushing riffs – sadly at much lower volumes – in the comfort of my own bedroom. David and I couldn't help but love a band with such a hilariously shit name, one lyric songs and the choon entitled Whisky Business.
Imagine then our delight when we learned that The 'Deal (our affectionate appellation) were to be playing Reading 2003. They were on at the Carling tent on the last day (coincidentally straight after Kinesis). David and I trekked over to the stage only to find it completely surrounded by millions of absolutely huge old and tattooed beer-guzzling biker dudes. We fought out way to the front and the Bens emerged to possibly the most violent mosh ever seen in this country. The fat sweaty men jumped about everywhere and anyone who got in their way was crushed. I was winded several times and my shoe was almost ripped in half when it fell off but, despite the exhaustion, it was utterly worth joining in the circle. The 'Deal didn't fail to impress and even pwned their entire audience will the inspired yes-it's-a-climax-no-it's-nothing song of hilarity. Everyone in the Carling tent that Sunday afternoon came away from Reading a stalwart Winnebago convert and it was my favourite show of the whole weekend.
Since this band had provided the loudest gig of all time and my deadliest gig ever, I was really looking forward to seeing them play at the Camden Underworld. I was pleased to find that the venue was much smaller than I remembered and still had a very hellish style. With the sunken pit in front of the stage, it ought to make for an amazing show. That night The 'Deal didn't quite beat their own volume and energy records but, nonetheless, were really rather fucking incredible. Hundreds of Londoners were assfucked again with a slightly shorter version of their pwning song and they effortlessly flitted between epic twenty minute sonic assaults and intense shotgun blasts of songs lasting a few dozen seconds. There was some cunt at the front with his girlfriend who wouldn't leave the barrier despite disliking the music which pissed me off, but overall the gig was fantastic. There were some utter dudes in the energetic crowd and we all went berserk when they played the single, Manhunt. It was an ace gig and I picked up a split 7" and a CD afterward.
Listen up: I bought f#a#∞ on vinyl in December and it's actually the most beautiful record I've ever seen and heard. From the handmade card cover to the flattened penny inserts and eerie photography it's so personal and just the way records ought to be. Each limited edition copy is a gift of love – a little heartspill of distilled emotion dedicated to you, its owner. The record is truly majestic and both sides just modestly ooze through your soul and fill it right up with atmospheric symphony. It's based in a landscape of schizophrenia that attacks the fears of modern-day living yet it feels like it was made for you alone to hear. I find that when played loud enough whilst walking down the street they can be quite trippy – go check them out.