Pretoria: 1 Cape Town: 0
Saturday night saw the last Cellar Door party at Horror Café before they move to the basement of Cool Runnings in Melville. On the bill were young bands Kid of Doom and Eat this, Horse.
An interesting line up as both bands being approximately the same age with the former hailing from that laid-back seaside town called Pretoria and the latter from that angsty armpit called Cape Town. And no it’s not the other way round.
While the same age and similar state in their development – their opposites are distinctly polar. Eat this, Horse are critical, angry young men at war with a cold world indifferent to their will or presence. Not.
They’re four guys who eschewed the tiresome process of making music in favour of reading every fashion magazine ever fucking published and who ‘do’ each other’s hair. Apparently all day.
They opened the evening's programme with a mixed bag that oscillated and pin-balled amongst a series of obvious references - most notably The Doors. The lead vocalist lacking somewhat in Morrison's stature, swagger, vocal growl and ultimately his humour failed to win me over. He went to the ancient gallery… Oh no.
The rather tired Strokesian deadpan stance and flat vocals coupled with a lot of preening mirror time make this crew a bit tired and rather obvious.
There seems to be a tepid stream of vacuity running through the local band scene fairly recently with Eat this, Horse clearly new disciples of the like of The Dirty Skirts and Desmond and the Tutus. Very much practitioners of the “I like the mirror and the mirror likes me.” pretty pretty school of rock. Eat this, Horse are fluffy (like literally), kid rock.
My two cents: Back to school. And yes that means haircuts.
Post-rock auteurs - the fiercely euphoric Kid of Doom carefully articulate the end of the universe as they hurtled toward the dying of the sun on an ongoing basis – headlined with a series of guitar numbers that owe much to 65 Days of Static, Explosions in the Sky, M83 and in the recent past even Mogwai.
Rather than opening with quiet cords that progressively build toward an aural zenith of screaming dirty guitar crescendos and rolling percussion - they open with the zenith and incrementally climb the register even higher.
All this without the messy inconvenience of teary lyrics or whinny vocals. It is for this reason, complimented by their remarkable synchronicity that makes them worthy members of this club. Whatever it is. Probably something along the lines of: “We're hopeful, if not exactly cheerful”.
The major appeal of this genre for me is the intrinsically organic feel to the sound - an ever expanding and shifting thing that consumes, generates and destroys as it moves forwards into an impending doom - a self-contained logic that for me prompts the question are you able to assume a position transcending the natural world or are you subject to it as a part of it?
Kid of Doom live are definitively a sublime experience in tradition of the Romantic definition of this term – they successfully mimic that terrified awe present in the apprehension of the natural world’s absolute indifference to human will or presence. Like icebergs mating. Hard.
There is a totality coupled with a patent maturity that sets this band and their sound well a part from others their age. The pathos and raw unbridled emotion, in whatever form it is ultimately articulated - evidenced in their sound must owe something to being from Pretoria.
Perhaps the well-worn angst and militant devotion to bands like Nirvana and MegaDeath in this neck of the woods has a lot to do with. Or maybe it's the brandewyn. Either way a memorable performance coupled with hope for things to come.
My two cents: A+
