Wednesday, February 08, 2006


At this month's Losers expect a fair number of Real Kids songs, in remembrance
of bassist, Alan "Alpo" Paulino , who went to bed on Tuesday night, complaining
of a cold, and didn't wake up in the morning...

PJ from Dirty Water and Max from Club for Losers present a night of unhinged

at Clockwork, 96 Pentonville Road, N1 (nearest tubes: Angel or Kings Cross)

Doors open 8:30. Live sounds from:

"Tonight might be Bonfire Night, but for The Horrors, every day is Halloween. Comprising five identical-looking Hoxton sticksmen covered in zombie make-up and fake blood, this is surely the thinnest band in history - if they stand side on, they disappear. There's nothing skinny about their sound, though. Yes, as a
black hearted mess of primordial sixties garage punk (their version of The Witch
by The Sonics is particularly surly), The Cramps, feedback and the most unlistenable bits from the first Public Limited Image album, it's ghoulishly good stuff. The fact that they don't even know enough songs to play anything more than a 14-minute set - and that an upset looking audience member spends all of that time with his fingers in his ears - is ultimate proof of their total perfection." Pat Long, NME

Pink Riot have known each other for seven years and have been playing music together for three years. There was a phase last year where they decided not to play music with each other, as it wasn't going anywhere, they weren't pleased with anything that they were doing - but being young and inexperienced it took them a while to figure out that having them both playing guitar wasn't the best way to go about making music together. So Josh bought a bass and then then found that they'd started playing some half decent music. But they still were not completely satisfied with what they were doing, so they bought a £30 kids keyboard from Argos, stuck it through an effects pedal and an amp - and, hey, whadya know it, sounds very, very nice!

The Stupid Club fill a void. They fill that void where content must always triumph over style. They refuse to throw their lot in with the synthetic scenes created by people desperate to be part of something important. The Stupid Club see the bigger picture. They are happy to make music for music's sake. They overcome nerves at their first ever gig to realise this truth. The music they make is an attempt to transcend factionalism with day-glo choruses and razor-sharp hooks that could turn the boogyman into mincemeat. This is pop classicism stuffed into a blender. They stare nervously ahead, looking for the exit if it all goes wrong. Luckily for them, and us, there is no need for such drastic action. Their power-pop agenda is perfection with a volatile beauty of which the Pixies would be proud. The melodies might be pretty but the underlying discordance proves that The Stupid Club are unafraid to get grit under their fingernails. With a slightly odd whirring noise, the left of centre rhythms, the throat-shredding they create something wonderfully original with their schizophrenic catalogue of songs. They're a droning post-rock monster. Like Sonic Youth molesting a robot, it really explodes.It explodes like a nail bomb. Feedback and random shards of noise fly out everywhere, making your eyes bleed.

Plus a late set from CASA ELECTRO NOVA

C.M. Smith's one man electronic music performance seeks to bridge the gap between Vegas style showmanship and Electro-Rock at high speed. An American ex-pat, he lived in Berlin for three years after leaving New York City where he went to art school at Cooper Union, but has now moved to London and its more vibrant music scene. He has performed all over Europe from Copenhagen to Vienna with his specially made suitcase that has a microphone, sampler, and hard disk recorder built into it. Despite my misgivings about his described style of music, I was won over by the man's performance, his pure showmanship. If it's entertainment you want, then Casa Electro Nova will give it to you.