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| Cross too big? |
Friday
I, Melachi ibn Amillar, being of unsound mind and body, did venture to the Desertfest in Camden on Coronation weekend, 2023. Beginning at the Black Heart, as I am fussy where I spend my beer money,
Gnob sounded like drum and bass sped up a little with some guitar and vocals to make it more interesting. Listened to few tracks.
Spaceslug provided a diligent 4/4 grind (without any blues feel), some of the rather formless songs more successful than others.
Valley of the Sun added to this some more riffs and even occasional tunes.
Church of Misery provided some sludgy, doomed themes, miserable indeed. Now,
Vinum Sabbathi were rather odd sounding, as though sequenced with whistling synth effects and tape of someone resembling an astronaut playing throughout, apparently from Mexico, where astronauts are otherwise rare, I imagine; I may need to look further into this band. I decided to have a healthy dinner and ventured to the nearby
Subway |
| Sun, somewhere. |
, where I found a seat outside and a six inch meal was kindly only charged at £5. This was followed by
Damage playing standard thrash with added mosh at the Underworld.
Ecstatic Vision from Philadelphia sounded like a confused version of The White Stripes. I could not quite get into them.
Graveyard played a bluesy rock a bit sped up. Unremarkable, thought I.
Electric Funeral finished with Black Sabbath covers quite well, at least the guitars sounded the same as Black Sabbath last time I saw them. There was a bit of a buzz when he sang 'My name is Lucifer, please take my hand', which to be honest we did not feel much earlier in the day. But generally not too bad, though it is strange how quickly one becomes accustomed to paying £6.40 for pint of Camden Pale Ale.
Saturday
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| Dressed in white, honestly. |
After contemplating the anointment, I began the afternoon with
Our Man in the Bronze Age at the Black Heart. This band had a very loud bass guitar and some songs that included actual singing, quite unusual for this fest. One or two of the tracks I thought might benefit from a relisten.
Weedeater I was thinking were loud but rather vague to start with, but then I got into their groove some more. Very much like Bongzilla, maybe they are Bongzilla. I last saw
Crowbar at Wacken in 2017, here they were a bit less memorable, maybe because previously they had made such a shocking change from the preceding band (Bob Geldof). A few were lacking sufficient beards, but they certainly like their stoners solid and heavy down in NOLA.
Slomatics contributed slower riffs from Ireland, joined by a cat from Elephant Tree at the end. We then dined at Camden's new
Wendy's, well it was not as good as last time either, which would have been the Wendy's in UV, Los Angeles, in 1996, where I distinctly remember much greater lashings of various spicy sauces. About the same as Burger King but the burger not as juicy, nevertheless I would remark on the free tomato ketchup squeezer, being a rare thing nowadays. I finished at Powerhaus, aka Dingwalls by the lock, where I have never previously heard a rock band, to see the
Church of the Cosmic Skull. They were all dressed in white and sounded like a throwback to the new 60s Ghost, but with two girls singing at the back, easy on the eye, but unfortunately on the ear too as I could not hear either of them. Maybe they were holograms. Vocals were actually provided by a gruff long hair at the front. I liked the idea of this band more than the execution, and thought the song writing could have been stepped up. Though "All going to die" was fun, and will look out for them again.
Sunday
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| Short Ceremony. |
Starting Sunday in the Roundhouse,
Blood Ceremony played a few new songs which I do not feel I need to hear again, and seemed to finish a bit early, so I was a little disappointed. The three piece
Nebula were probably the most similar to a straight up (though loud) rock and roll band, despite the name.
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| Zetra with Headlights. |
After dinner at the
King of Falafel by the Underworld, where the grease poured from the bottom of the wrap (which is actually not what you usually get a kebab in, we noticed too late), and what grease remained disturbed my swallowing for some time (indeed, I do not think I will be returning to this kebab house though the owner was quite friendly), on the way back I had a pint at the Wetherspoon's on the lock (£2.39) and dropped into see
Zetra at the Powerhaus, unexpectedly discovering embarrassingly enjoyable gothic 80s synth rock and a couple of very good tunes.
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| Boris didn't bang the big gong. |
Now, a lot of people had been talking about Boris, and I was wondering what he had done now. But this was, in fact, a band, called 'Boris', playing at the Roundhouse. I could not hear them very well as shortly after they started I thought I had better wear earplugs. There seemed to be some interpretive dance going on, some atmospheric songs, and some crushing ones. I fear one would be better off comprehending the concept more before experiencing this in the flesh.
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| Lacking only crown. |
The festival finished with
Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats, who are badly in need of a double live album to better express the Mighty Splendour of their rhythmic drive, the records being a bit weedy. It was a fine finish, and in time we will no doubt be acclaiming them as royalty, of rock, not least.
