There are few greater sources of social capital in musical circles than that of being both singer and drummer in the same band, at the same time. Tonight’s crowd is acutely aware of this as three out of four drummers sing and two of those are the lead vocalists. Although the crowd is relatively small they are young(ish) and highly enthusiastic.
As In Bloom open the night I’m struck by the quality of the mix. The holy trinity of ride cymbal, bass and snare drum are balanced to absolute perfection. At the core of the band sits Francis Broek: He’s very tall, nearly gangly and very beardless. He looks about twenty years old. Three intersecting circles are tattooed at the kink of his elbow, the symbol of Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham. While two guitars and a foul-mouthed bassist pump out concrete rock tunes with ‘70s influences Broek masterfully handles both drumming and lead vocals. Neither drums nor vocals are adversely affected by the performance. In fact, he’s a brilliant singer and drummer. It’s a little unfair, actually. Their arrangements as tight as any professional band out there so I’d be sure to keep an eye on them in the future.
Retro Dizzy follow, delivering surf rock to an unsure crowd. The genre is very niche and it would seem that in this case the gamble doesn’t pay off. For reasons unknown they were received with a noticeable level of apprehension and disinterest. An already small crowd thins out so few are witness to an insane grand finale wherein lead singer Richard Liefeldt plays slide guitar with a Windhoek Lager bottle before bashing the daylights out of his guitar. It’s sacrificial in a way that The Who or Hendrix would have loved.
The Tazers’ Jethro Lock takes the stage in a jacket that would do Sergeant Pepper and the Lonely Hearts Club proud. His vocals sound a little rough around the edges (they played a gig last night as well) but the Tazers’ enthusiasm is undiminished. They throw themselves into their set with wanton abandon, meaning to make the most of their last night in Cape Town no doubt. Their conviction translates well and dancing breaks out everywhere. They regularly descend into psychedelic rock lunacy where trembly phasing and engorged bass fuzz reign supreme. Compared to their EP everything is cranked up – louder, faster. You can’t keep your eyes off them for the entirety of their volatile set. Messy things can be good too, and this is like a well planned food fight.
Hellcats are a two-piece phenomenon of old school rock. “In case you were wondering, no, no one left. This is the whole fucking band,” chirps Warwick Rautenbach. As was the case with the opening band, lead singer Alessandro Benigno also plays drums while providing lead vocals. The other half of Hellcats is Warwich Rautenbach, purveyor of sludgy distortion and groovy blues tone from a Candy Apple Red Stratocaster.
Cards on the table, I came here tonight to see if this band could deliver. In particular, I want to know if Benigno can really deliver the irresponsibly high vocal performances that I’ve heard on the ‘Coffin Full of Hellcats’ EP. The moment of truth comes two songs later in on a tune called ‘Get in the Fire.’ In the closing chorus Rautenbach is running back and forth like a caged animal, delivering one ‘80s metal pose after another. Benigno screams ‘GET IN THE FIRE’ with irrepressible force. It’s raw power. I’m going to harp on a little bit more about this because I think it’s important: Benigno’s voice can simply do naturally what could never be taught or trained. Set as the centrepiece along with grungy rock n’ roll drums and guitar the Hellcats are true ambassadors of rock n’ roll music.
If these bands are anything to go by (and I think they are) the future of local rock music is bright. Bright and very, very loud.
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