Music / Reviews
Review: Eyehategod, Fleece
Who needs Glastonbury when you can tape Motorhead and The Who off the telly and head down to the Fleece for a deafening four band blowout? A late addition to the bill, FUK want to (punk) rock like it’s 1982. A side-project by guitarist Gabba of enduring, shambolic Bristol punk rockers Chaos UK, they don’t bother with introductions but just hit us with what is either a dozen different songs run into one another or a gargantuan 30 minute punk-prog concept piece. Oh, OK, it’s most likely the former. They go down pretty well with the hairy headbangers, which may have alarmed them somewhat.
Fellow local act Husk attempt to do something a little more interesting and creative with the familiar shouty metal template, adding some novel guitar textures to the paint-stripping vocals. It doesn’t always gel, but they’re certainly onto something. Shame this appears to have been their last show.
Always a welcome sight, perennial support act Baron Greenback take things up a notch and are the first band to attempt anything in the way of cheery audience interaction. They seem to have revamped their set somewhat, giving the headliners a run for their money with their meaty brand of stoner doom.
“This is the 47th time we’ve played the Fleece,” announces Eyehategod vocalist Mike Williams, incorrectly – though he’s not far off. These venerable originators of the New Orleans sludge metal scene play here most years and Williams continues to do an exceedingly good impersonation of someone who’s completely off his face. It’s a bit of a challenge to remember a single Eyehategod song, though newie New Orleans is the New Vietnam boasts a certain punch, and you’d need to be an exceptionally eager fan to invest in any of their recordings. But where they excel is in working up a dirty groove on stage, with an edifice of punk, metal and southern rock atop a bedrock of blues. That’s thanks mainly to the big fat riffage of founding guitarist Jimmy Bower – the Zelig of sludge metal, if you will, who pops up with just about everybody, even playing drums for the likes of Crowbar and Down. Their epic set loses a bit of momentum with technical difficulties, leaving the frenzied moshpit to steam gently until things get back on track and bodies begin to fly through the air once again. Same time next year, then.
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