8 May 2006

Baseball Bat out of Hell

So we brought the rock to Croydon. A punishing, three-hour slog through the sprawling, abstract concrete nightmare of London and we found ourselves hunkered down in The . Once an estate pub, in the shadow of the surrounding flats. Now a den of noise and hair, a red brick temple for the acolytes of metal.
Undaunted by the handicap of not being a metal band we took to the stage and hammered through a brutal set, held up only by cigarettes and cheap curry. The small audience cheered. The landlord roared approval from inside his wire mesh soundbooth, beating on the cage with a baseball bat in time to the thundering drums.
Extreme noise too from gig-organisers Blue Rat and the headliners, Flowers of Flesh and Blood - a DC hardcore punk sound fronted by a dreadlocked Rollins figure and powered by ferocious, machine gun metal drumming.
All in all then, a winner and worth staggerimng through the door for at 3am.
One question though: why was it that when I asked the bloke in South Mimms if I could pay for "pump six" did he start rummaging around to try and find me a packet of condoms? That's fucked up, surely?

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