Being asked to play on a sell-out UK tour would have given most bands enough to be going on with, but hectic though the rollercoaster schedule is supporting MINUS THE BEAR at a succession of packed venues, hotly tipped Bradford outfit THIS ET AL have a multitude of other things happening besides.
‘Baby Machine’, their long awaited debut album was finally released last month and the initial responses are very good, though the record still has to be promoted and launched officially before the group can concentrate on new material.
W&H managed to grab a few words with frontman Wu (et. al.) prior to their Manchester show in order to discover a little more about the all-important happenings that have prevented their feet from touching the floor. I have to thank them again for their time (many thanks once again!!) as they only had something like 40minutes to get something to eat before their show and were obviously well shattered.
Being as upbeat as this lot at the end of the kind of month they’ve had is about as positive as it gets – a massive sign that This Et Al are (perhaps newly) aware of the required level of commitment, and are more than equal to it, that’s how they seemed to me.
New bassist Simon didn’t arrive until near the end of the interview, but I could tell that he was settled in well before I asked him. The whole group chipped in to answer the question, so that tells you more than what they disclosed in words. Drawing room farce, inverted for palms-open affability. Or just a fact that actions speak louder? It’s a show of inner strength chaps, but there’s absolutely no need for the stiff upper lip just yet. Nah, from where I was sitting, it looked like it’s nice to have a direction especially in this free-thinking choice-laden modern world of ours, where it’s so easy to lose your way in life
Looking at the length and thickness of the queue through the van windows as it disappears round the corner, it looks like a successful tour from where I’m sitting:
Wu: “Yeah, it’s been going wicked. Some nights have been a bit weird, some of the reactions, Minus The Bear fans are real die hards, and we’re not exactly matched for a tour, we’re not exactly the same band”.
Ben: “We’re getting an opportunity to play in front of a shitload of people. Pretty much every night has been sold out, so it’s the best tour for us, all out attack!! Last night in Bristol was sold out, and it’s sold out tomorrow as well at Islington Academy. We did Leeds last Tuesday, at the cockpit (this sold out as well)
Baby Machine’s release must have been pleasing for them as well, but near the end of a knackering tour schedule, the feeling is more about relief:
Wu: “Our album was well overdue. It’s been about just getting it out there as quickly as we possibly can. It took up a big part of our year, and we’ve put shitloads of money into it, it’s all self-funded, we’ve all been working as well”.
Steve: “Yeah, it’s been hard – but I think it’s a lot better for that”
Wu: “We’ve had all these songs for a long time now, and it’s great just to have put them to bed”
Ben: “It’s time to move on now. I think the plan is…get this tour out of the way, and then get something sorted out in terms of giving the album an official release”
Wu: “Basically it’ll involve going on the radio, and going in shops, and then we can move on from there. As soon as we get back from the tour, we’ve been writing, and we’ll probably get an EP recorded at some point”
Recorded in Bramley in the midst of a maze of industrial units with SOMATICS maestro and producer Richard Green, is one advantage of the network of musicians and talent at your disposal when you have a scene that is flourishing around you, but though the band agreed unanimously that Richard was top dollar to work with, their enthusiasm was for the man and not the idea of collectively labelling bands according to geographic location and time as such.
Ben: “He’s a bit of a free spirit isn’t he Richard..he brought a lot out of us”
Steve: “Yeah, you walk in, and there were instruments you’d never seen in your life before, y’know what I mean”.
Steve: “It can kind of hinder you in a way as well sometimes, cos if you’re linked with a specific city…it can work both ways”.
Ben: “Aw yeah, they must be shit, another shit Leeds band…so you can get it in the neck”.
Ambivalent they remain then, both about the ‘Leeds’ music thing and being ‘scene’ as ‘just another Leeds band’. Also there is a huge and near-tangible sense of relief in the joy that their debut long-player is finally on the shelves. I realise that they are fast becoming aware of their ability to cut it in the big league. Debut albums and first sell out tours are big time ‘keeper’ memories, and the ready brek glow of success encircled this lot.
Even though they were shattered, you could tell that they were in fine spirits – in the midst of such a crazed process as touring, there is at least the comforting knowledge that you have not been traipsing the streets with a guitar in a daze somewhere in a self-delusional virtual unreality. Nope, when things begin to go a little bit blurry round the edges, and your time is no longer your own, them’s signs of success, and This Et Al despite the physical exhaustion of seeing through every required commitment whilst still in full time day jobs, proved in ten minutes that they can keep their feet firmly on the ground, despite the apparent upside-down nature of everything around them.
Professionalism? Innate feline instinct?Gyroscope training? Or does the siren sound of their dipping, surging rollercoaster music attune them to the chaotic nature of space and time? They take to the stage early, but the venue is already packed. The 360degree stage dominates this tiny club, and looks a mighty intimidating place to be, as no way does that stage lighting blank out the sea of faces encircling the group! Pragmatic in conversation about behind-the-scenes events just minutes earlier, you would never guess what a truckload of effort went into something that sounded so chaotic.
The band are dead tight, but their abstract sound effect style highlights the different textures in their depth-charge preoccupation with sound alright, which all sounds like the kind of stuff your mum and dad don’t like cos they can’t hear the words to the ‘songs’ (an admittedly rather inappropriate description for This Et Al’s material).
I offered industrial decay as a something that their music puts me in mind of. Much scratching of chins and noncommittal shrugs came by way of a response. Do their parents share the same misconceived views as me? Or, could it be they want to keep the interpretative air of mystery in the air that surrounds them, and are boxing clever in an effort to preserve the veil of mystique over all the closely guarded, pact-of-silence ‘messages’ (or lack of) in the music for now?
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My money is on the simple theory that they have a preoccupation with sonic textures rather than songwriting. The ins and outs of this, in terms of the techniques employed, may or may not be secret also. Their soundcheck approach was so laid back they were in danger of falling over (split second bursts of everything, followed by a “Yeah, that’ll do” kind of response). Rock shapes were thrown and shoes were gazed at onstage, but the thunder of their futuristic/apocalyptic nightmare vision was in the distorted, compressed, condensed and layered array of amplification through classics like the Fender twin reverb, the sight of which is usually a sure sign of good things to come!!
Renegade cyborgs, restricted freedom, big brother conspiracy and highly-tuned paranoia never seen far away from the thoughts when you hear tracks like ‘Can you Speak European’ which seamlessly follows up their equally edgy opener ‘He Shoots presidents’. If I’m missing anything pastoral, or don’t feel my chakras connecting it’s because this is guitar driven rock n roll, the musical antithesis to spiritual harmony The next thought to crash down the chute into the back of that one was me remembering where I was, and though I laughed, even that was like demonic hysteria (– For though it’s a safe bet that Hell is permanently dark-skied, lit only by flames and has lots of active volcanic stuff happening, it’s my belief that they have £1.50 a pint cider on tap there as well, which is just the ticket for seeing dark forces, and government intelligence robot ‘stormtroopers’ roaming the streets - bargain that the apple juice is, you are able to avoid detection and extermination by blending yourself in with the scenario as it unfolds – you feel almost invisible as you demonstrate your newly-discovered ‘natural’ abilty to move and ‘talk’ like one of these automated clones!! Don’t do it in the chippy though, or tell anyone else about the drink’s magic properties, as they’ll put you away).
‘He Shoots Presidents’ has all of the domesticity it can take and then some. Boredom is the enemy, as they scrape against the rotting monotone of existential suburbia like those afraid to fall in line and know the dangers of doing so. That’s close to the edge that is, proper shaded territory when it comes to the fine hairline crack borderline that separates sanity as perceived by our peers from foaming craziness. It’s cinematic, with black and white cutaway shots of people living ordinary lives in the lyrics, but the sound is full colour 3-D terrain, and a glance at Wu’s feet finds me looking at a veritable idiosyncrasy of Boss pedals fixed to a big ol’ square of plywood as the guitars squeal and echo through the weight of the inevitable percussion.
Dark, yes, but epic as well, with relief coming in the form of gain-heavy melodies that spill out from the brief drop-out periods of respite, flowing along with the next wave of frenzied feedback (my blood pressure is something I wonder about as well, LOL but I’m 35, and that’s what you get ha-harr!!).
It would take a real bomb, or some kind of panic wave to move most of the assembled faces though (What I never can get is how the Goths and gothettes can remain so unmoved – even by a support band. Oh, don’t they just refuse to enjoy themselves! Most of them aren’t 20 years old, and I don’t know whether to laugh or bloody cry, cos This Et Al are reacting to the audience or it seems so, as it made perfect sense of the self-aware, inhibited feel in the air. The social pressure is high, and all about blending in. This unfortunately places restrictions on the young’uns. How can they possibly have a good time out if they are casting disdainful glances at, say a 30-odd yr old guy with a shaved head wearing a stripey 3button t-shirt and brown cords. Me? OK I do stick out a bit, but I’m drinking cider remember, and its magic powers kept me blissfully ignorant of this as did my own preoccupation with sound over the subliminal flash of the words within.
That ‘impress me’ veneer was everything in here, but I enjoyed bouncing about near the front, close to the source of the noise. Knackered they are most definitely, and long-awaited their album has indeed been, but there is nothing tired or sluggish about the enigmatic racket being kicked up by the group. It’s almost like they are taking the piss out of the value system that governs such Gothette thinking, except for the size and depth of their sound telling you that it must surely be a reaction to(or reflective of) some aspect of the bigger picture.
They finished with ‘Wardens’, and finally pastoral imagery comes in the form of peach filled trees, but even this is slightly exotic, like an embodiment of greed as warden control marches grow with the melodic echo. The club is small enough, but these lads can feel the walls closing still further. Their claustrophobic and instinctive aversion to conformity, let alone uniformity was perfect for this place, and perfect for their delivery. A bit like an understated version of the scenario where a footballer returns to haunt a club who released him by sticking a hat trick in the net, and baring his arse to the home fans, This Et Al thrived off this show of indifference in a way that suggested they thrive off such a scene. As the underdog you’re always gonna keep your feet if you feed off hostility, or champion the cause of the outsider.
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