![]() ![]() ![]() I seriously enjoyed what these guys did, and I guess were part of the reason why Concorde 2 was so busy early doors. ![]() No publisher.” Just a jollly good PR in the local Sonic team and a thriving merch offering where you can purchase all manner of Eggs related shit including the “F**k it” football scarf.AK/DK live photo by Ian Bourn for Scene Sussex It’s triumphant in the way they proudly declare their independent model – “ We’ve done this all ourselves. He clearly wants to be where the action is. It’s riotous but in a good way, accompanied by a set of songs that pulls mainly from the heavy hitters on the Eggland and Moron albums and you can see why Iggy Pop has deemd the Eggs as worthy of his attention. However, health & safety ensures it’s not set aflame a la John Bonham/Led Zep style. Talking of which, the big gong set behind the drum kit – “ the party gong” to be precise – is given a ceremonial bashing to herald the real start of the party and we’re reminded of Roger Waters doing his own gong solo in Floyd’s Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun. While they’re a most original act that works totally on their own terms, the psych/punk Magic Onion could easily take inspiartion from the days when the likes of Gong were ruling the roost. ![]() Holly’s crown lasts barely a few seconds before it takes a dive as she begins a violent assault that doesn’t let up from the incantation of Witchcraft all through to The Return To Witchcraft that could be a Hawkwind classic cover, they provide their own musical tirade that’s accompanied by blinding flashing lights. Holly Ross and David Blackwell step out, decked out in their capes and crowns with a set of fearsome fun and while they might fall short on the ‘f**k’ count – as would nayone following Thick Richard – they more than make up for a guitar and drums fireball of nuclear energy. A short sharp thirty seconds later he informs us it was written in real time. He did one with no swearing – “ it’s about f**king!”. Gripping the mic stand like the white knuckle ride it was (or in his own words “ like trying to throttle a f**king cobra“) it was the performance poetry equvalent of guitar shredding. An impressively non-stop machine gun fire tirade of one liners, shoe horned into verse liberally decorated with venomous profanities. Tilly Harris does a decent job of expelling as much energy as a youthful Angus Young in a non stop bounce around, only stopping to add the occasional vocal and “‘ yer’s a song” in a Welsh lilt.It is pretty non stop too bar a finale of Intelectuals and the “ pick me like a flower” chorus where amidst the bluster and jangly punk pop, they show a fair ear for a melodious hook or two.Īnd so to some shouty, sweary and anarchic poetry from the “ Prince Of Profanity” – Thick Richard. We rather enjoyed the Eggs’ I Am Moron album – it even made our pick of 2020 and as Hollu says on more than one occasion, they’ve been waiting for this, their biggest headline show, the biggest gathering of Eggheads, for some time.īut first, Arch Femmesis take the stage shortly after doors bringing their billed “ art punk electronics from Nottingham” to those who’ve got in early doors and it’s hurry scurry with narey a pause for breath before the “ three groovy peas in a far out pod” Bug Club who are determined to pack in as many songs as possible into their little slot. Meanwhile, Manchester’s O2 Ritz becomes Eggland for a few hours of irreverent escapism.įor a mere £15, the chance to be royally (sorry…) entertained by four acts sees us having an Eggy encounter for the first time since 2018’s Head For The Hills. Local hero Liam has done his Manchester turn, and has headed South to Knebworth for a two-nighter. It’s Queenie’s ‘platty jooobs’ of course, with a suitably royal ‘gig’ involved. ![]()
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