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In an age where the tepid likes of the Datsuns and Jet are being hailed as some sort of nu-rock revival, it's great to come across nights like this which really prove once and for all that these Antipodean Stones wannabes really are a bunch of wusses when they come up against the real big boys.
Bournemouth bruisers Sludgefeast write big angry riff-laden songs about amusement arcades and the like, all of which contain riffs the size of Canada and big angry shoutalong choruses which are almost certainly guaranteed to upset Mr and Mrs Jones at number 54 after closing time at the pub. Quite simply, they rule.
Similarly, headliners Ten Benson take to the stage in woolly hats and wifebeater vests and proceed to churn out an hour's worth of brilliant unreconstructed sleaze, scuzz and rock 'n' roll just the way you like it with the brilliantly deranged likes of "Cottage" and "Robot Tourist" sounding like Queens of the Stone Age pissed on Special Brew. Add to that yet more bonecrushing riffs and shoutalong choruses (particularly on the none-more-Tap "Tits") and you've got a band who, to all intents and purposes, are effectively the Darkness' evil twins. Yes, really, that good. Bow down ye all before the power of the riff.
Reviewed by Andy James
