Cape Horn to Starboard - John Kretschmer (1986)

A charming, entirely unaffected story of a young man learning to sail and eventually rounding Cape Horn. Almost in passing, he mentions that two much better funded sailing vessels planning to do so at the same time, sank. I do not think anyone reading this could believe that Mr  Kretschmer was, at least by the time he got to the Cape, other than a very skilled yachtsman, but still his modesty and calm is inspiring. Though now I think I will stick to the Canal.

Doom over London 2016: the Saturday Sessions

Rumble

Sludge

I arrived at the Saturday Doom over London 2016 Session, on 26 March, to see the end of the King Goat (and admire the hood), followed by Eye of Solitude, who rumbled vocals with a magnificently slow, nosebleed- inducing bass rising to a fine double-time finale ('double-time' being relative and still splendidly slow). Though their second song was much the same. Torpor were quite interesting, a 3-piece with a more experimental sludge. Sea Bastard again mainly amazed by the tattoos on their guitarist, which however represented beasts of the sky, rather than the deep. Sea Buzzard, perhaps?


For Slabdragger, I thought I detected a riff from exposed guitars towards the end, but it was not confirmed; likewise Ataraxie entertained a dissonant three-guitar counterpoint at one point, which also failed to launch. I preferred Officium Triste, presenting a much fuller and more structured soundscape. Bossk brought an aimless though not exactly unpleasant instrumental, similar to the largely wordless Esoteric, who came dangerously close to drum and bass at some points. I found Hooded Menace heavy in a simple way, and largely uneventful. Moonspell closed with a theatrical presentation, at the poppy end of doom, a bit like Lacuna Coil but without such clear tunes or the Italian lady; although some think the Coil not that good either.

King Dude: 13 February, London

A kingdom for him
somewhere?

The venue was an upstairs room in the Lexington, a rather large pub near Islington which sells an IPA for £5.75 a pint. Where better to be insulted by a gin-swilling American 'King Dude' strumming, from time to time -- in the course of a shambolic performance -- of his love for the Dark One? In fact, I could not hear any of the lyrics, except when it came to "Lucifer's light", a song which was really rather good.

He was preceded by a guitar gentleman by the name of "Naevus", desponding like a Cohen without the poetry. But I, Melachi, liked best the first band, a three-piece "The Howling Truth" with a bass beating throughout like a heart over mixed with free-ish guitar solos.