Wresterlerish – sjoe!

Crap. I did it. I bought a band T-shirt in a sudden flurry of fanaticism. I was totally sober. In my defense, I was also drowning in my lungs, but that’s no excuse for breaking a vow to never get the T-shirt (seeing as I get everything else, including the rude names). i sat, deliriously, impatiently, through a tedious Jeff Buckley tribute (voice has promise, the songs need narrative), and a mellow man-and-guitar with more charm than charge last night at the Waiting Room. (ha. yes. Touché.) I should have been in bed. I’d come anticipating that the hype about Wresterlish isn’t hollow because people I trust said it was worth it. (tip. If you want to know what’s what musically, ask serious musicians, Miles, Chris, someone who represents decent bands or decent design and marketing). The funny thing is, there’s all this buzz about the band, but most people need a lesson to say their name, let alone to read it, which just gets messy. Pronounced, I suppose, “Ress-ler-ish”, it’s a mouthful from a happy handful of hopefuls, and by my merry little ears, I declare the hype has heart. (at least, for me)

Months ago someone wanted one of them to come and crash in my lounge on an impromptu tour that never came about. we only shook sweaty (his), feverish (mine) hands after the gig, but our online introductions (via a certain red-bekked debenite) were quite candid. And cute (for two peole who've never spoken). It went something like this :

(To the viking)
hi werner

yes. as i am in the business of music, and a gypsy at heart, i know what it's like to be homeless and hopeful, so do come and stay at mine if your feet don't smell. i know your bum smells, but i'm not a dog, so we're ok there. are you down for ramfest, or what?

i heard your music today. tis beautiful. and i'm not that easy to please. (ok. so i have a weakness for voice and guitar. it's my mother's fault, she brought me up on simon and garfunkel and cat stevens and that other hairy guy)(o wait. that was a girl. ja, but anyway, you get the idea)

jezebel

(from the Viking)
hello from the dry heat that is pretoria!

so after a week of trying to scrape together a couple of shows around ramfest. i am bummed to say that we failed. BUT luckily we have hooked up and started organizing an amazing tour for the end of april! so if everything goes according to plan we'll be in both your towns around then!

jess! big digital high 5 for the simon and garfunkel! i recently bought the graduate sountrack on vinyl and fell in love with them all over again! thank you very much for the kind offer of possibly housing this cowboy!

roger! you are a legend! thank you times a billion for all the contacts and effort you've put in for us! may you be blessed with a thousand (legal aged) aKING groupies! ;)

ENJOY RAMFEST!!!

werner

I did. Almost as much as I enjoy “Cocoon”, a wonderful, wailing track from Werner’s previous aural incarnation as a shu. Its long been on my hit list of favourite tracks to drive irritably through traffic to. (I have lists for all sorts of things, not all of them as inane as this one, but then this was for girls who need a map to find their own clitoris). [note to self –ask Neil about the subliminal sonic structure in the timeless power of certain songs.] And before you start rolling your eyes at my odd taste in music, the way Zeno does about my loving Dear Reader, remember what the one thing the Blk Jks would like to ask detractors. “what makes you think somebody else won't like it just because YOU don’t?” (that's Mpumi)

Well, now. How about me thinking that somebody else might like it because I do? Problem...

Basically, for other bands, Wresterlish is Bad News. I’m borrowing a bit from their wit here. i mean it metaphorically, but Bad News is also the name of their newest single, an apt (if exceptionally cheerful, yet strangely self critical) sonic summary for a band who’d better put out an album pronto, or their journey is going to be slower and harder than it needs to be(grab the bull by the balls, if you will). They’re solid, diverse within their desired genres, and damn do they know how to put on a show, even WITH a kak rig . They’ll steal aKING’s mellower fans (while New Holland will steal the testier, younger ones), and become the next band to have tattooed on your butt. Why?

Because they’re the kind of musicians who are genuinely pleased and surprised every time the crowd roars or squails in response. Because they have a generous on-stage energy, an intensely engaging presence that proves that closed eyes are not a sign of insecurity. Because there are qualities in those vocal chords you only hear when it’s loud and live. Because the lyrics are intelligent. (“if nothing ever dies then why do I feel buried alive?... I let you take me alive”). Because the compositions are nipped and tucked and clipped and plucked in all the right places. Because their songs can be silly or serious without being static, because they’’ll arm the drums with four sticks like it’s a joke (when actually, it works), or leave a song to strings and breath alone that has you holding yours till it suddenly ends on a high note. Because they know how to prep a set list so that you get the best of their country/rock/pop arrangements and succinct compositions, and slide through it like a pro, not a wide-eyed amateur. Because they left the Waiting Room wailing for more like cats on heat.

Anyway, that’s it. got the T-shirt. I’m a wrestler. Ish.

Catch them where you can…

3 Sept – Klein Libertas Theatre with The Plastics and 3rd World Spectator - Cpt
4 Sept – Deer Park Café with The Lottery Tickets - Cpt
5 Sept – Puma- Rudolf Dassler Schufabrik Side –Projects at &Union in Heritage Square - Cpt
12 Sept - Firkin with Zebra and Giraffe - Centurion
3 Oct - Aardklop - Potch
10 Oct - Rocking the Daisies - CPT

P.S. Just before you get all clever on me, my Guns wifebeater doesn't count as a T-shirt; it's a collector's item (and besides, it doesn't have sleeves).

cutting what?

it is. my suspicion. that often the more popular music is with the populace, the more middle of the middle it is. which is not to say it's not good; just... easy.

music means many things to many souls. it doesn't have to claim your concentration, and it doesn't have to foreground your growth.

but if often helps if it does! ask the best. and their (real) friends...

SHU - it's not my first time

omg. mm.

SHU ate my evening.

Memory is funny thing and Summer is a sunny thing. It's easy enough to remember the beach at this time of year (sunset, swim, sand...sigh), but when you realize you forgot what you did last winter... then things get a bit tricky.

I’m talking about my new love, here. Whose name rhymes with sjoe, shoe and shoo!

Namely : SHU. as it were.(i wonder wottit means)

i was drooling and gushing over my keyboard about my new faves (tack tack drool) last week at wek. (wek? - no, don't get me started again) and to Everybody i met . "SHU this, SHU that, must see SHU, na na na." my new SHU. (which is good, coz i already ate all my other ones, such is the lucrative lameness of writing about live music) and so on. the songs wouldn't leave my head. mySpace made a lot of dosh from me lastweek, yessiree. (zit true that mySpace chews non-paying users’ bandwidth? isn't that illegal? unethical???)

Then I went to Mercury (it might be gatdonker, but its got great sound when the right monitor man is around) to see them. and hey SHU wow. it was deja vu. i've seen that sound breaking the air before. I’ve felt it. but I forgot. Because we hear with our eyes too?

which begs the question. why didn't i remember them by their sound alone when i was raping mySpace? where do sight and sound join? (I'll answer that in another missive)

it's something about live performance that gels an experience. Galvanizes it, even. Evidently.

SHU at mercury on Friday.

They are tight as a tit’s tart. And they make a small stage shiver. Liquid fire or something. Be swallowed. Be chewed. Be washed up on the shores of your own exorcism. Be inspired and hammered. It is heavy, melodic rock. But it’s not as heavy as Tonight We Die (rock? i need to ask a few questions about this word). Their vocalist has a lady's whinney to her - ag, i mean his voice which is odd for a man with such a large presence, and the bassist looks happy, jiggy, even, which is odd for a bassist. The drummer is the inbetween mc, entertaining the crowds with a steady stream of quips and quirks from his unattainable elevation. Which is odd for a drummer. - aren't they usually the silent, sexy ones? allinall, their oddness makes for a few moments of absolute catharsis. and no, they didn't play my favourite song(cocoon). it was the bassist's fault.

Lots of guitars. Lots of lovely noise. Lots of leaping around and none of the clichés. Unless mad, talented musicians with obedient instruments are becoming clichés. i hope so.

One (beautiful) friend (really, she is superbly beautiful) mentioned that they sound bit too much like the Muse for her liking. As a self-confessed forgetaholic and rock virgin who only discovered A Perfect Circle last week (sies, I know), I must say, it made little difference to me. SHU came first and this is not my first time. I'm going to have to get their album.

Anachronism is a funny thing. It puts that age-old question asunder. (no! not “do you want to sleep with me?”. The other one) Never mind whether the chicken or the egg came first. It's what cracks em that counts.

SHU - kiss my rapture

just discovered SHU.

it took three bars, and i was in love. it's like that with real rock - it doesn't take any getting used to. (it doesn't take any prisoners either.) it's a quick victory. painless. the love is there. the pain, too. the power. it grabs me somewhere between my groin and my third eye. and pulls everything out. love. pain. p o w e r.

but fuck what i say. sample them for yourselves:

SHU on myspace

and watch this space...