Author: birminghamreview

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Bilk With Support From Postman & KIDS At Mama Roux’s 15/02/23

Writer Ray Vincent-Mills / Photographer Nevaeh Anning

I walk past someone with a ‘No bollocks just rock and roll’ t-shirt with Bilk’s signature slapdash snail logo on it and expectations are set. This show at Mama Roux’s is the first date in the band’s UK tour following the release of their self-titled, debut album.

The show opens with Postman, a three piece post-punk outfit straight out of Birmingham. The  vocalist exclaims: “We’re the local boys of the night!”

The underbelly of grunge in their music provides depth and an ominous note, complimented well by the navy blue lights above them. A pocket of people in the front bounce around, arms up high to the music, which grants them nods and half smiles from the singer.

“This is called ‘I can’t describe the feeling’ dedicated to Hayden. He had the top streams for this song on Spotify, like a hundred, it had only been out a couple months.”

They may not be able to describe the feeling, but I can. It’s exciting and wholesome to see a new local band acquire a fan base.

“I’ve got some good news and bad news, it’s our last song.”

“Naaaahhhhh!” Someone retorts from the crowd

“But the good news is, it’s an absolute rager.”

The crowd agrees as pleas of one more song hit the air. The vocalist regretfully responds with that’s all we got.

KIDS enter the stage, swapping over cymbals, equipped with the edition of a synth. They announce that they are experiencing some technical difficulties with the natural solution of “Fuck it, let’s chat.”

There’s a playful shout of “Play Wonderwall.”

“We take a while to get started, but once we do it’s beautiful.”

When they do, the tongue and cheek vibes are undeniable. From the performance, to the lyrical content and vocal delivery. Their stage presence is enigmatic and full of personality as lead singer Beau goes from singing, to loose rapping, with yowls and grunts thrown into the mix.

The person taking pictures on stage gets an ad lib in the mic and it is clear to me that the band has foundations of friendship, love, and community.

In the last song the crowd are instructed to “Go fucking mental when this drops with me, yeah!”

The crowd oblige as a pit forms and the vocalist makes himself the pinnacle of it by jumping in and moshing with the crowd.  KIDS’s set ends with the frontman picking up a drumstick and joining in on the drummer’s beat.

Two people are huddled in a dimly lit corridor with one of them jumping up and down excitedly professing: “I just love men in bands so much!”.

Bilk walk onto the stage and immediately throw a blow up football into the crowd. They announce it’s the first date on their (sold out) tour. The music sparks the room alight as the no frills band let their sound do the talking.

Indie with rock and roll influences, the three young lads sport t-shirts and jeans which adds to the group’s modesty which is clear in their music. Their lyrical content encapsulates British youth, providing tracks that are simultaneously hard hitting and endearing.

The crowd pulses as someone picks up their mate and there is no shortage of moshing and headbanging. Someone does a worm in the pit to end a spontaneous breakdance routine before bodies clash and shove to the drum hits and guitar riffs.

The football re-enters the room, landing on top of one of Mama Roux’s painted houses. It becomes part of the furniture and so does everyone else as the climax of the songs descends onto the crowd. Rogue bits of confetti float down from the ceiling as the die-hard fans sing, scream and shout every lyric.

The bus dwellers and train catchers dip just before shouts for an encore.

“You want one more yeah!”

It’s ‘Daydreamer’ and the crowd passionately sings back the lyrics. Energies are high, brows are sweating as the room unites for the last hoorah. Sol throws a bottle of water into the crowd before the group vanishes into black and purple hues.

“First proper gig-experience that, ” someone says enthusiastically on the walk home.

Bilk + Postman, KIDS @ Mama Roux’s 15.02.23 / Nevaeh Anning

For more from BILK go to: www.bilkband.co.uk

For more from KIDS go to: www.scruffoftheneck.com/pages/kids
For more from Postman go to: www.postmanbanduk.bandcamp.com

For more from Mama Roux’s go to: www.mamarouxs.co.uk

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Idiots Assemble: Spitting Image Saves The World – At Birmingham Rep Until 11 March

Writer Ed King / Production Photographer Mark Senior

“The world’s biggest movie star,” Tom Cruise is back in Birmingham saving Great Britain six nights a week, with an A-list ensemble of do-gooders including Ru Paul, Tyson Fury, Stormzy, Idris Elba, and Greta Thunberg.

And he’ll need all the help he can get, facing a quack team of super villains led by schoolboy Rishi Sunak, a suitably orange jumpsuit wearing Donald Trump, and an elongated Jacob Rees-Mogg grasshopper.

But don’t worry mum, I’m not back on the blotter acid.

The Birmingham Rep stage is currently set for Idiots Assemble – Spitting Image Saves The World, as the live production of Luck and Flaw’s ground-breaking puppet based political satire TV show enjoys its world première until mid-March.

Written by Matt Forde, Al Murray, and the Rep’s own Sean Foley – the latter also sitting in the Idiots Assemble director’s chair – the colloquially called ‘Spitting Image Live’ is laugh out loud funny from start to finish.

My apologies for the cliché but that is precisely what I did. From the moment a diminutive Sir Ian McKellen stood in the spotlight to open the show, and probably much to the annoyance of those to my left and right. Pun intended.

Hanging on to the time honoured tradition of good versus evil, the Idiots Assemble narrative is that simple. Tom Cruise and his cohorts are called upon by King Charles, a cocaine fuelled Paddington Bear, and a Carling can swigging Camila to save Great Britain, which a TV mounted Hugh Edwards eloquently informs us “…is fucked. Really fucked.”

But for every yin there’s a yang, with Rishi Sunak joined by such lovely foam folk as a tousle haired Boris Johnson, clunky transformer Elon Musk, and Rupert Murdoch (evil enough, right?) who are all hell bent on ensuring their pernicious turpitude goes undefeated.

And worthy of a line all to herself, there’s Suella Braverman… whose Linda Blair based caricature is so gloriously perfect it’s in danger of making the worst thing to hit the Home Office since Covid almost endearing. If it ever comes up for charity auction, I’m selling a kidney.

Plus, we welcome back a few stalwarts from the original Spitting Image. And if you need a clue, think suits and cigars. And who might complain: “but fuck one crazy egg lady…”?

Set as a theatre within a theatre, the two halves of Idiots Assemble are watched by both the flesh and blood audience and more foam made familiar faces in boxes on each side of the boards – Harry and Meghan stage left, with Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping opposite.

There are also a few noteworthy cameos, from Birmingham’s own Jess Phillips and Alison Hammond, to a larger than life Liz Truss lettuce – who is only on stage for a matter of seconds, which in itself I desperately hope was deliberate. And an increasingly angry Nicola Sturgeon highlights just how hard it is to keep political comedy current these days… dear deity, you just can’t put your pen down for a second can you.

Despite a relatively thin on the ground plot, the story rolls wonderfully along as Tom Cruise & Co rally together to fight off the forces of modern day evil – with the Achilles heel of each character, good and bad, teased out of its shoe and mercilessly stamped on.

Some of the gags are woefully predictable or pantomime, such as Harry’s repetitive reference to Spare and Keir Starmer’s desperate search for “a simple yes or no answer.” And some are just puerile, with a song and dance routine centred around parts of Angela Rayner’s anatomy that would be embarrassing for an attention hungry five year old.

Then there’s the occasional wince and crawl back in your seat moment – call me a prude, but I’ll never clap a rendition of ‘Tomorrow Belongs to Me’ no matter how many free drinks are at the press reception.

But that’s Spitting Image for you, and the Idiots Assemble satire is astute enough to carry us confidently over the theatre threshold – with a well deserving standing ovation to the absurdly hard-working cast of puppeteers who should be subject to scientific investigation once the run is over.

There were even some moments of mature sensibility; whilst no one is (or indeed should be) out of the line of comedy fire, the war in Ukraine was neither skipped over nor ridiculed. As Mr Cruise reports back, President Zelensky was just “too busy” to play.

I remember the original Spitting Image, sitting comfortably at the other end of the TV political satire rainbow to Yes Minister. And maybe it’s my age, or maybe it’s the current maelstrom of current affairs, but Idiots Assemble – Spitting Image Saves The World is a strong contender to the original series, one which works surprisingly well as a live production.

So then my lovelies; plaudits, praise, encores, and roses – and hopefully the start of more Spitting Image on stage.

Idiots Assemble: Spitting Image Saves the World runs at Birmingham Rep until 11 March. For a full performance schedule and links to online ticket sales visit: www.birmingham-rep.co.uk/whats-on/spitting-image-live

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Cuffs & Punky Supports Headline At The Victoria 15/02/23

Writer Yasmyn Nettle / Photographer Mx Neffy

The Victoria is a corner pub found next to The Alexandra theatre in the centre of Birmingham. Upstairs there’s a well equipped cosy gig room with its own bar and stage. Tonight, I’m anticipating not one, not two, but three up and coming heavy punk hitters who are expected to treat us to a thoroughly sweaty and sweary gig.

First up is TRANSISTRRR, a duo made up of Lexi on vocals and bass, and Jessica Claire on guitar and vocals. Jessica dedicates their set to Brianna Ghey, a teenage trans girl whose recent murder in a park near Warrington has shaken queer communities across the nation.

The pink, white, and blue trans flag draped over a drum set is spray painted with the name of the band.

TRANSISTRRR play an eight song set including original songs from their debut EP The World is a Scary Place and two covers – the opener ‘Outcast Stomp’ by G.L.O.S.S, and later ‘War’ by Idles. Each song is delivered with genuine rage and emotion, as promised by Jess at the beginning of their set.

‘Piss Off’ encapsulates everything TRANSISTRRR stands for – it’s dedicated to the journalists and media personalities who have blood on their hands for spreading fascism and hate.

They have a bit of tidying up to do, not that punk should be perfect, and the duo remind us of the drum track underneath their live playing. This was the source of a couple of their timing issues, but I for one am excited to hear them as a complete band soon, we all agree a live drummer will ensure a more natural and spontaneous sound.

Grail Guard is next, the band piles onto the stage transforming from what looks like five unassuming pub goers to a band fizzing with energy.

Riaz Rawat on vocals, Phil Wilson and Adam Yarnall playing guitar, James Rodger on bass, and Natan Komaiszko on drums. ‘Rule Britannia’ plays over the speakers before distorting into their fantastic opener ‘Cruel Britannia.’

If you want to get a bunch of left-wing gig goers ready to mosh, play an audio clip of a man from the Midlands (where Riaz is originally from) saying racist slurs. This worked a treat for Grail Guard before their song ‘Our Streets.’

Riaz cites the Windrush generation and their grandparents’ journey to England as influences for the song, jumping off of the stage to join a headbanging crowd.

Grail Guard has me onside from the get go. Their lyrics are infused with the exact kind of anti-fascist message I believe the world needs right now.

And, after some internal consulting, there’s an unexpected additional song played titled ‘Elon Musk’ which was handled especially well by drummer Natan, lathering us up with controlled syncopation.

Last but by no means least it’s Cuffs, our headline act. Their new album To Hell and Back is out now, and available on a slick 12” pink vinyl.

At points, lead singer Brodie Morgan seems to be preaching the word of punk to an eager congregation, reaching their arms into the air as if to pray as they spit, sing, and rap lyrics. We also have Matthew Cook on guitar and Lewis Hardwood on drums.

However, my stand out musician for the whole night has to be Will Grant on bass. Will brings an energy which spurs the band and crowd on, constantly animated and alive with music.

It takes Cuffs a few songs to really hit their stride. ‘You make me sick’ and ‘OCD’ contain infectious melodies that get the crowd thumping. Though some of the riffs didn’t feel super unique, Cuffs are able to skillfully infuse a heavy punk sound with an inexplicable softness.

‘Watch Me Die’ had some of their best melodies. I especially enjoy the moments when both guitarist’s vocalise to compliment Brodie’s singing, giving the songs an almost choir-like quality.

The song ‘Scandals and Vandals’ plays us out and leaves us wanting more.

Overall the three bands compliment each other’s vibe – with landlords, brexiteers, and people who make the queer community feel unsafe all called out to help us channel our anger.

Being a Brown neurodiverse 5 foot-something gig goer, I often feel trepidation to attend gigs which will get angry. But I feel safe surrounded by the warmth of each of the bands tonight.

Gender, race, and disability diversity IS punk and I hope the audience take that away with them as they head home.

Cuffs, Grail Guard, TRANSISTRRR @ The Victoria 15.02.23 – Mx Neffy

 

For more from Cuffs go to: www.cuffs.bigcartel.com

For more from Grail Guard: www.grailguard.bandcamp.com
For more from TRANSISTRRR got to: www.open.spotify.com/artist

For more from The Victoria go to: www.thevictoriabirmingham.co.uk

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Kaleidoscope’s 5th Birthday With Headliner Fitzroy Holt At The Night Owl 10.02.23

Writer Ray Vincent-Mills / Photographer Joe Marchant

It’s Friday night, which is uncharacteristic for a Kaleidoscope, and The Night Owl oozes with creativity from every crevice. Kaleidoscope, a music night incorporated with an arts fair, are celebrating their 5th birthday (for the second time this month) and I make my way upstairs to peruse – finding inspiration amidst craft stalls and low sagging sofas, littered with creatives and consumers alike. It feels like afters, pres, or something just in-between.

The art ranges from a colourful crochet stand, to nineties influenced tattoo flash prints, to a fun striking jewellery stand. I spot a poster which reads ‘Birmingham 2022: Sharon the dog is shitting on the carpet again. Commonwealth Games’ with a picture of Ozzy Osbourne, arms up, eyes wide. The mood is immediately set.

Guitar licks, a wide vocal range, and the rhythm of the drums pull me in from the smoking area… the Ghoules are on stage. They’re one for the headbangers and defenders of rock ‘n’ roll; the gritty and intense vocal delivery does not distract from the beauty and glamour that lies under the surface of their music.

The lead vocalist stares out into the crowd after exclaiming: “We’re gonna fuck off now Brmingham, thank you very much,” and strolls through the crowd to the bar most probably.

His stark unapologetic demeanour compliments the music and emphasises the humility sensed within the group. The band, a culmination of good hair and bold patterns, fills the room with sounds that linger in the corners long after they leave.

The next band Sancho Panza combines indie grooves with mischievous hints of lo-fi and dreampop. My bud taps me on the shoulder grinning, “look at the front.” Two people are dancing enthusiastically, spinning around each other hand-in-hand, as the lead singer smiles fondly.

The 90’s nostalgia that is weaved into their music, paired with the woozy psychedelic visuals behind them, harnesses a nostalgic feel good environment which encourages hip sways and toe taps.

The last act and headliner Fitzroy Holt takes the stage, confident with his band: “Can I get the lights down so I can see all my mates,” he says with a smile.

Fitzroy talks about how the band only formed last summer, but you wouldn’t be able to tell. Their sound is developed, well rounded, and undeniably optimistic, with lyrics that sometimes contrast demonstrating variety and versatility. Their chemistry is strong, as the musicians banter with each other between songs. The keys player and guitarist nuzzle heads as the room comes to life.

Their sound is also soulful and funky, and Fitzroy pays close attention to the crowd. After announcing they’re gonna take things a bit slower, he asks: “Do you want us to go higher or lower?” With enthusiastic shouts of “HIGHER” the band oblige as the room responds.

Fitzroy Holt’s playful take on neo-funk-soul is not only embraced by the crowd but demanded as someone behind me shouts: “Get silly with it!”

An instruction for the band and crowd alike, as bodies swirl around each other like the visuals behind them. With the song ‘Foolish Man’, Fitzroy references himself: “Tell me, why, why do I have work tomorrow?”

Rookie mistake, “Pull a sickie!” someone behind me shouts. If that isn’t a testament to a strong performance I’m not sure what is. Strangers, friends, and lovers get lost in the beat prompting shouts of encore and one more song.

The different genres explored by all the bands at Kaleidoscope tonight pulled in a good crowd of people that mingled and clinked beer bottles long after the music stopped. A sure sign of a successful gig.

Kaleidoscope’s 5th Birthday @ The Night Owl 10.02.23 – Joe Marchant

For more from The Ghoules go to: www.theghoules.bandcamp.com
For more from Sancho Panza got to: www.linktr.ee/SanchoPanzaBand

For more from Fitzroy Holt go to: www.open.spotify.com/artist

For more from The Night Owl go to: www.birmingham.thenightowl.club

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Georgia Oakley’s Blue Jean Explores LGBTQ+ Life In Thatcher’s Britain

Writer Jimmy Dougan

*Blue Jean is being screened at Mockingbird Cinema until 16 February, and at MAC from 24 February to 2 March*

I can’t help but feel like queer people are being put through the cinematic wringer of late.

The game-changing, galvanising radicalism of late-70s trailblazers like Pedro Almodóvar, Chantal Akerman, and Derek Jarman has given way to a joylessly dreary, grey modernism with a core of heartbreak and sadness. A list of landmark LGBTQ+ films posted by the British Film Institute to their Letterboxd profile presents a veritable cornucopia of suffering.

Surely, I wonder, there must be more to queer romance than Timothée Chalamet sobbing into the camera while the credits roll?

Georgia Oakley’s feature film debut, Blue Jean, released by Altitude Films, is very much of this modern sensibility. This is a bleak film, with joy only occasionally breaking through the clouds. Yet it’s rooted in the very real, very sad history of the British LGBTQ+ community and provides an illuminating window into the past.

It’s 1988 in Newcastle. Jean (Rosy McEwan) teaches PE at a comprehensive school. She’s also gay and meets her partner Viv (Kerrie Hayes) and friends at the local gay club most evenings. If her employers find out she’s gay, she’ll almost certainly lose her job – regressive Section 28 legislation imposed by Margaret Thatcher’s government forbids schools from diverting from heteronormativity.

Jean views her sexuality as something to be concealed and hidden. She’s done fine until now, but the arrival of a new pupil Lois (Lucy Halliday) begins to cause problems when the 15-year-old starts showing up at the gay club and taking an interest in Jean’s personal life.

Blue Jean drew me in with a tantalising opening, showing Jean methodically and artfully dying her hair. She’s putting on a mask and becoming someone else, on the run from something in her past. It’s an arresting image, suggestive of Jean’s immaculately controlled image and personal life.

The film is shot by cinematographer Victor Seguin in neat 16mm which deftly evokes film of the era, looking not unlike something the BBC’s former Brum-based Pebble Mill Studios would have broadcast. But the aesthetic is heightened by deliberately muted pastels clashing with seedy nightclub neons to suggest something sexier and more contemporary.

Seguin keeps the camera close on Jean so that every glance and twitch is captured. This feeling of entrapment is enforced by the narrow aspect ratio. She’s a caged animal.

McEwan’s performance is striking and strange. Everything Jean feels and does is suppressed and controlled, so everything she does comes across as a bit weird and rehearsed. When Jean’s sister brings up her previous marriage to a man, McEwan plays it as if a nuclear bomb has gone off in the garden. Jean is ruined by fear and her titanic, bold performance works brilliantly.

There’s also a refreshing lack of judgement, or indeed gendered gaze in Oakley’s direction. I was reminded of Céline Sciamma’s revolutionary 2019 film Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and often felt that Blue Jean’s most cutting-edge aspect isn’t its politics, but rather how it frames female and queer bodies.

Whether making love, showering after netball, or scoffing a Pot Noodle, there is something refreshingly mundane and unspectacular about the way these people are depicted. They are simply allowed to exist.

However, it’s a shame McEwan and the camerawork isn’t better served by the material. Too much of the film feels didactic or clichéd. An early scene shows Jean inexplicably explaining the fight or flight response to the netball team, as if Oakley doesn’t trust us to automatically assume that a closeted lesbian in Thatcher’s Britain might just be continually on-edge and terrified of being outed.

The many scenes of Jean and her friends in the gay bar arguing about the nuances of queer identity begin to grate too. Only when Oakley begins to let loose do these scenes take flight. She films beautiful queers in beautiful clothes dancing in luxurious slow-motion. She sets a lover’s quarrel in a blood-red bathroom with ‘Blue Monday’ for a soundtrack – fantastic.

The final thirty minutes are gripping, with Jean finally having to confront the damage her political and sexual ambivalence have wrought. The tension is unbearable; the dilemma Jean faces is challenging and knotty for her and us. The film is weaker for not hitting these highs sooner.

Blue Jean is a discomforting and uneasy film. It resists simple categorisation – perhaps to a fault – and only occasionally transcends its period trappings to become something truly thrilling.

And while Oakley could do with trusting her audience more, Rosy McEwan’s searing performance alone makes this one worth giving your time to.

Blue Jean – official trailer

Blue Jean is being screened at Mockingbird Cinema, at The Custard Factory, until 16 February. For full listings and links to online ticket sales visit: www.mockingbirdcinema.com/production/blue-jean/

Blue Jean then screens at MAC from 24 February to 2 March: www.macbirmingham.co.uk/event/blue-jean 

To read more about Georgia Oakley go to: www.georgiaoakley.com 
For more from Victor Sequin go to: www.victorseguin.com/

For more on Mockingbird Cinema visit: www.mockingbirdcinema.co
Foir more from MAC visit: www.macbirmingham.co.uk

For more on Altitude Films visit: www.altitude.film