Hello. Welcome readers of YAZ. Or anyone on the net reading this seperately from the zine. You will have to excuse me. Iím drunk. I'm really pissed off as well as being pissed. Pardon? Why you ask? Thankyou, I will tell you. Itís 12.10. Saturday night. Well, 0.10 Sunday morning if you like that sort of thing. Iím pissed off, and Iím sweaty cos Iíve just walked home from the gig. And you know what? You donít, but Iíll tell you, I just got searched on the way OUT of Rock City. IN I can handle. But OUT. Yeah, thatís right. Mr Rock in Nottingham, voted rock club of the year for I donít know how many years, has decided that I am worthy of an outwards search. Sorry, but WHY? WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM DOING. WHO DO YOU THINK I AM. For those that donít know, capitals mean shouting. As in SHOUTING.AS IN PISSED WELL FUCKING OFF. DO I LOOK LIKE A DRUG DEALER? HARMFUL? CRIMINAL? Most of you wonít know to answer that, but I think that if you ever get to know me, then youíll be able to make a well informed decision. Iíll tell you for nothing, Rock City has a major fucking attitude problem. It tries to stamp over everything in Nottingham. Last week, it stopped itís hometown heroes from having stagedivers. Pitchshifter in case you are wondering. WAKE THE FUCK UP. THE SUN DOES NOT SHINE OUT OF YOUR ARSES, NO MATTER WHAT YOU MAY FUCKING THINK. Sorry, but my knuckles are fucking red raw, cos Iíve been hitting the fucking walls all the way home. I take serious offence. For those that donít know me, I donít even smoke, let alone take drugs. But I do have long hair. And yes, Iím drunk. Iíll admit that. I do fit into the national sterotype for ďheavy metalĒ fans. But one of the last places that I expected to uphold that sterotype was Rock City. But theyíve managed it. Fucking narrow minded wankers. Like everyone else, theyíre just interested in the bucks they make. God, sorry, but well, it may have been a woman that searched me, but I can guarrantee that she wasnít after my body. I AM FUCKING SEETHING. I FEEL LIKE MAKING A FORMAL COMPLAINT TO ROCK CITY. BUT I KNOW THEM. THEREíS NO POINT TELLING THEM, COS THEYíRE NOT ITERESTED. STUCK UP FUCKING HYPOCRITES. I AM REALLY FUCKING MAD. Maybe they think that as Iím leaving so early, I mustíve scored a deal somewhere, and now making my way out. Well sorry, but once the gig is over, thereís fuck all other reason to stay in Rock City. Itís not really as a great a place as they would maybe like to think it is. Sorry, a gig review is meant to be here. Ok, just wait until the morning. I seriously need to calm down. ROCK CITY, IF YOU EVER READ THIS, YOU SERIOUSLY NEED TO GET YOUR FUCKING HOUSE IN ORDER. SOME PEOPLE AND PLACES, SERIOUSLY OVERESTIMATE THEIR OWN IMPORTANCE. Goodnight, Iím going to sleep on this.
Ok, itís Sunday now, Iíve calmed down a bit. Iíll do the review. But I wonít retract what Iíve written. I know it wasnít much, and as I wasnít carrying anything, I shouldnít be upset. But Ďve been going to that place for 3 years now, and never been searched coming out. Will they do it to the other maybe 2000 people that were in there? I doubt it. Anyway, first up are Medulla Nocte. The same set as theyíve been playing on all the gigs this year, and once more, it has to be said, they totally blew the other bands away. It is a cliche, but if they were American, people who be wanting to have their babies, theyíre so good. Instead, when Paul asks if people have the album, thereís a few mute cries. So I hope some of the others bought a copy after the gig, especially seeing as it was on sale for a hell of a lot less than in the shops. The set seems almost more intense than before. Paul wasnít lying when he welcomed people to the show with ďIron Monkey, Misery, and some noise from usĒ. All Our Friends are Dead, though it may not have been a chart hit, finally sees people getting to grips with them. An outstanding band.
It was funny though watching the bloke next to me in a Soulfly shirt. Soulfly, macho. Hard. Honest. And he seemed to enjoy taking the piss out of how hard Medulla seemed to be. Yíknow the sort of thing people do. How strange for someone in a Soulfly shirt. Maybe Paul needs to shout Keeeler, and Fuck Shit Up. Then people will take note of this band.
Iron Monkey are next, and I still canít fathom them I find it hard to get past the wall of noise that is vocalist Morrow. At one point, he introduced a song as ďone off the new album, but I donít know whatĒ. Seems to matter little, as heíll just throw himself into it anyway. It seems strange to talk of subtlety in this sort of extreme music, but Medulla have the subtlety to make them accessible, while the Monkey donít.
As for Misery. Well, theyíre operating on a different level again. More light and shade I think is one of the more pretentious terms that gets used. And I still only own the first album. Still, the new track, No Exit, sounds like one of the best things that they have actually done yet. So it means that the new album, due out according to Patrik in ďsix months, 12 months, 3 years, wheneverĒ, could be their best yet. Along with the track Kiss Your Boots, which seems to get most people up and at them. Sort of thing. As does Yet Another One. At least thatís what someone shouted out for, and thatís what they got. And they leave the stage to feedback which isnít quite as impressive as that of Iron Monkey, who do good feedback. Even if they overdo it.
Sorry, crap review. I got, er, pissed off by events.