The crowd were very varied, age-wise. All looked up for an evening of thigh-slapping, banjo-wielding maniacal rock music. Hoo-ah!

Both of the supports were from London. Evidently born of the thriving London country/folk branch of the many-limbed indie tree. The first, one Bobby Cook, lead singer and namesake to his band. A rag-tag bunch of well dressed young men, who felt confident to dance around a bit. “It’s my first time playin’ in Nottingham…” Mr. Cook mentioned quietly.
I’m not convinced that it won’t be his last. The live performance, while well presented and enthusiastic, lulled out into a dull slog of background noise. I couldn’t see anyone singing along. Fair dos, he’s a long way north of home. Later visiting their myspace, I found the recorded tracks were a sight better on the player than at the show the night before. Cook’s voice is subtle, softly sliding over the instrumental portion rather than obscuring it. A little production made all the difference in recordings. With some adjustment the stage performance could come across just as clear.


Absentee were a treat. Listening close revealed a band that don’t take things too seriously. Consider the words: We Should Never Have Children (Darling, you’re no oil painting/And I’m no Michelangelo). Consider the banter..

Dan: I’ve been ‘ere…three or four times?

Melinda: I like Nottingham [cheer]…I like it because…because… I bought a new dress today! Smells a bit like an old lady, but it’s ok.

Dan: “Here’s an old fashioned country song about killing your girlfriend.”

This guy, Dan, is like Barry White as a bony Caucasian country western singer. Compare his vocals to the honeyed tones coming from Melinda’s corner, and you’ve got a perfect balance. While 4/5 of the band look the part in dusty jackets and gingham, Babak looks more like the wild man of Borneo. How did he escape the mold??? Yet we must consider that, dead girlfriend songs aside, this is not your typical country. Oh no. Country with funky keyboards and lyrics like “I’m tired of bein’ a man”.

After neatly labelling the two above, what are Brakes? Yeh, smartass, they’re sommat on y’car to make it stop going. Why would a Bristolian quartet who operate at such a breakneck pace take on the name? My suggestion to my Uncle Angus that they sounded like the Pixies was spat back at me. “No way!” he insisted, “Lots of people say that and frankly I think it’s insulting.” Listen to any track though, and you’ll hear Eamon Hamilton’s vocal cords straining to Frank Black-esque heights. And like Frank Black, Brakes’ screeching energy is tempered by a habitual lean to more countrified numbers. Compare Comma Comma Comma Full Stop (full tilt 30 second rush where the lyrics consist of the title) to Jackson. The cover of Camper Van Beethoven’s .

We Saw Jerry’s Daughter came across beautifully, and promises to be a modest gem on the new album Cease and Desist. When the big singles like Porcupine or Pineapple finally got played, no one was proper dancing at the front. Mainly because it is not humanly possible to dance that fast. Eamon’s eyes looked fit to pop out of their sockets. Bless ‘em though, the audience tried. It was an All Night Disco Party, where even I was groovin in meh parka.

Brakes, Absentee and Bobby Cook played at the Rescue Rooms on 1st March 2007.

Bobby Cook - myspace

Absentee - website  AND you know they’re for real cus they’ve got a fansite!

Brakes - myspace

Brakes - website
 
 
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