Junkie Brush + Sacred Disorder + Reverend Moonshine @ The Wheatsheaf, 04.03.05
I promise it�s not just the Antipodean accent, but Reverend Moonshine remind me a lot of Nick Cave. Must be the knowingly dark theatrical monologues and the slurred singspiel. Their twin acoustic guitar lineup is elementary but effective, and their songs of booze and frustration are beautifully augmented by a delicate jazz trumpet that I�m duty bound to describe as 'smoky' (Reviewer Statute 124/B/11). In all honesty, some of the tracks are somewhat wonkily delivered, and perhaps the second guitar should stick to bass frequencies, but they do have bags of character, which goes an awful long way.
Sacred Disorder are an odd proposition, as they all sound like they�re playing in wildly disparate bands. I guess you�d call it stoner rock, but the vocals (rhyming 'pariah' with 'messiah') and guitar (shredding and arpeggiating away) are pure metal, whilst the drummer plays Neanderthally simply, as if he were auditioning for Finnish uber-minimalists Circle, and the bassist whacks out a sticky root-note sludge with a definite goth flavour. A strange brew. I�m not saying they can�t play � they�re actually a pretty solid little unit � but the effect is so schizophrenic I�m not sure what to think. Like a disturbed child�s Cray-Pas illustrations, they have a weirdly compelling fascination, but at the moment the jury�s out on whether they�re actually any good.
Junkie Brush are often billed as punk, but I�m not sure: punk was always at least 50 per cent cabaret, and there�s nothing cartoonish about this band. Their dense, excitable missives remind me far more of U.S. hardcore: more straight edge than The U-Bends, let�s say. So there are no solos, no math-rock breaks (though there is an unexpected blues interlude) and DEFINITELY no sensitive ballads. Just supercharged howls of righteous ire.
And Junkie Brush do it exceptionally well. The third number (which isn�t called 'Drunken Cunt' despite what a drunken� person in the audience would have us believe) is especially searing and vitriolic, but over 45 minutes they never flag. To be fair, I find this music something like a tartrazine rush: all very manic and exhilarating, but the effect runs out slightly before the set does. Still, if you like your meat raw and clinically carved, book a table Chez Brosse and you�ll go home very happy indeed.
By David Murphy. Monday, 23 May 2005
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