Ultrasound / Dawn Of The Replicants
London Conway Hall
Weird place for a gig this. Kind of like being down the Salvation Army coffee morning. Except with less light and more amplifiers.
Dawn Of The Replicants are also a bit more bizarre than the aged freaks you find at such events. Singing songs about farms, seabirds and marriage, with no shortage of Butthole Surfers - style vocal effects, guitar noise and some mental tunes that won’t take no for an answer. They don’t yet seem to have it all flowing quite smoothly but, with a little more confidence, this lot look set to be Britain’s answer to Guided By Voices. With a singer in a silver suit.
On the other hand, Ultrasound are Britain’s answer to why my taxes are so bloody high, having been claiming dole for ages while inventing this clumsy foolishness. They have got a big sound and about two vaguely exciting riffs but are essentially just a rehashed Suede with a fat singer and a less talented guitarist. Utterly stuck in the 70s and far too interested in examining the anus of glam, the earhole of prog and the armpit of goth to be anything but a novelty. Still at least they’re not sponging off the state anymore, just the gullible people who are buying their records and coming to their shows.
