I'll admit it, me and rock aren't really seeing eye to eye nowadays, there's just too many times I've walked into a shitty, dirty venue, watched some crap then gone home and felt like I shouldn't have bothered. All this aside I still found myself turning up at The Park on a sunday nite with the vague hope of being re-inspired. As any good evening starts, it was time to prop up the bar for a bit and make sure my judgements became deluded by alcohol and a few shots later i was in perfect idiot mode. With an absence of pretty girls and people in general I settled with the last resort of watching the bands!
First up was those wonderful matching sleeveless t-shirts of Lapsus Linguae. a band i've seen far too many times already but have always wanted to write about. Why?? u ask! Because they're shit, no really! There's no other word for it. They're a huge pile of spaswank. Aswell as lookin like a bunch of badly operated transexuals, they're music also seems to be a surgical accident, it's like going in for a boob job and comin out with five ears. They could be compared to Muse and Shellac but only if Muse and Shellac were fuckin awful. I'm glad Laura and Caroline turned up whilst they were playin or I might have had to have continued watchin' them. My advice to Lapsus Linguae is ; a) give up b) shut up or c) fuck off. Right, sorry about that just had to get it out my system.
So that band finish and I can hear myself speak again, its back to the bar to get even more loaded. It's at this point that I notice a very strange lookin' individual in a tight fitting velvet jacket walkin' around like he shouldn't be allowed out in public. I wanted to tell him to go back in his hole, but my rude hat wasn't on. Anyway, twenty minutes later this queer lookin bloke I'd been so quick to judge walked out on stage as the singer of The Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, and as if he'd read my mind earlier, set about proving that I shouldnt be such a wanker when observing people for the first time. I started off watching from the back of the room and they scared me. They scared me by the way they looked, and more importantly they scared me by how good they were. They had a phat as fuck sound and had me enthralled and i nearly pooed my pants when the singer darted spontaneously into the crowd and yelled right in my face leaving me even more convinced that he had read my mind earlier. Their set was fast, angry, weird, heavy and really good to watch. The strobe onstage added to the atmosphere making the singers twitchy movements look even twitchier and makin' them all basically lookin like crazy men.
80's Matchbox (blah blah blah) we salute u for helpin to save rock in the minds of cynical bastards like me, it's just a shame that your CD is shit, still we cant have everything.
Here ends my first review and I'll be back when I see something else I like, which won't be anytime soon. I am the cowboy that is ugly. I am the Ugly Cowboy. I am Cowboy Ugly.
Rocking or Shocking?
Rocking. 
5/5. Just because.
Cowboy Ugly
