As stated in a previous post, I was trying to think of somewhere I could send my dad for a live review and it just so happens the wonders of Peterborough beer festival had the answer. Featuring several of his favourite things – ground hops in a liquid format, pub games, ‘crumpetâ€™ and Oliver Reed t-shirts (okay not that), why not let the master brewer review some of the bands? So off he went to sit on a stolen chair, in the middle of the entertainment marquee, with the back of the festival programme to scribble on and half of mild.
Bands – King Kool, Plastic Soup
Venue – Peterborough Beer Festival
Cost – Fiver
Date – 23rd August
Beer – loads
The rather crowded stage was set halfway down the long side of a very large marquee. The audience of about sixty people were aimlessly scattered on the large grassed area in front of the stage, with enough open space to park several full grown blue whales.
This was a duo made up of Dan Donovan and Joe Mason. The blurb in the program describes them as quote: “Kicking breed of art garage rock” – whatever that means. The singer was dressed in black reminiscent of Johnny Cash. Unfortunately, that was where the resemblance ended. I endured three songs as the vocalist seemed to be in competition with the drummer in a ‘who can be the loudestâ€™ match. I could not determine any distinguishable words as Joe, the exuberant gum-chewing drummer, drowned them out. The singer to show his virtuosity played a harmonica and short solo on the guitar when the drummer took a breather. The patrons were offered CDs at Ã‚Â£7 each. Amazingly none of the paying public rushed to buy a copy. To me, the overall sound was akin to being interned in a forty-gallon drum with several bricks and rolled downhill.
Comprised of four exuberant performers, this group enthusiastically belted out three numbers with the volume and musicality of a jet engine. The lead vocalist wore trousers that appeared to be made from the skins of four Dalmatians. The first number seemed to be called ‘Plastic Soupâ€™, with the singer who appeared to have watched a Mick Jagger video, attempting to copy some rocking moves. The rest of the numbers were a cacophony of sound that assaulted your ears harder than a bailiff banging on a door on rent day. They left much to the imagination as to what the lyrics were about, as the vocals blended into a wall of noise. The low frequency bass made your teeth vibrate enough to give white finger to your lips. (I donâ€™t get this at all â€â€œ Ross.)
Intro – Ross
Words – Mad Mac