Black Angels: Heavenly

Sometimes, you have to wait a long time to see a band. Maybe their gigs clash with something else (EOTR Xmas Party 2008). Or you're off on a jaunt to another hemisphere (Oz - Oct 2009). And then it finally happens and you can only hope that it's worth the anticipation and isn't some massive disappointment.

Kieran and Bernie bought the tickets to see The Black Angels donkeys ago, so I'd almost forgotten about it, what with the stupidly busy work schedule, dogsitting for Wilf and the fancy housesit.

Gig was at the slightly revamped Borderline (lick of paint, toilets that finally work). Dark Horses were supporting (waxed lyrical about this lot in my Black Mountain post recently - the girl singer really is good, great voice, charismatic, lot of stage presence). But when the main attraction took the stage, I was just blown away. They were well worth the wait. (In fact, as they took the stage, I actually said "grrrrr" out loud, like some randy old Leslie Phillips in female form). Then the lightshow kicked in (Keith Hawkwind would have been proud of 'em) and it all got a bit Keith And Anita Do Morocco. Perfect. There was the added bonus of Blondie and The Old Punk turning up unannounced, freshly back from a couple of days in Glastonbury (verdict? "bloody awful tourist trap now - ruined"). A great night, which ended up in The Crobar and far too much booze for a school night...

(Postscript: Aforementioned busy schedule means I haven't blogged about seeing Sleepy Sun last week. Contenders for the crown of "Best Make-Out Music On The Planet", currently shared by Dead Meadow and Mr Lanegan. Flavours of Black Mountain, if the members of Black Mountain suddenly lost the plot and got off their tits on happy pills. Sleepy Sun - a band that look like they're having a psychedelic ball on stage. And all played through Huddersfield's finest:

We gave the world Last Of The Summer Wine and Stoner Amplification

Three Kings

Like some kinda fangirl, I became more than a little giddy when I heard that my favourite swirly heavy were riding into town. Having been introduced to Dead Meadow a few years ago by Mr Ward, they fast headed for the top of my list of must-see bands whenever they're around.

Having sneaked a couple of guestlists off a very benevolent Howard Local, I was gutted to hear my dear friend Blondie wouldn't be accompanying me due to family commitments (she's rather partial to heavy too), so at the last minute, I invited my successor to Disgracelands, the lovely Andreina.

First up, Wolf People. I really like these fellas - they seem to incorporate the right amount of guitars, noise and denim which suits me nicely. Bit of a shame they lost the flute guy who used to stand on one leg (now where have I seen that before...?), but great nonetheless.

Next up, Duke Garwood. I've already waxed lyrical about him right here, following his support of my darling Mr Lanegan a few weeks ago. He had a couple of techy hitches, but kept a smile on his face whilst playing some lovely dark country blues. His drummer is a very cool, older bearded chap who knocks his skins about beautifully.

And so to the main attraction, incorporating their new album, with the first UK screening of their film "Three Kings" as a backdrop. If I'm honest, the boys took me so far away with the fairies whilst they played, I hardly noticed the footage, which seemed to consist of them wandering around in the desert wearing tie-dyed vests, aviator shades and flares (sigh...Stephen McCarty). My eyes were closed quite a bit actually, apart from the minute when an überfan tried some hilarious crowdsurf move, with absolutely no takers to support him. NONE. Very funny. Also, it was the birthday of pisshead short-sighted bassist Steve, and the band seemed to be having a ball. They were truly amazing - when they went into what I only know as "Untitled Bonus Track" off Feathers, I think I may have gone into a psych vortex (maybe).

Got roped into giving a few lifts after the gig, so as we hung about waiting for Howard and his friend Paul (very familiar looking...turns out he's the older brother of Mister Seven Woods/Thunders Rick), I spoke to singer Jason Simon (sweetheart) and a drunk but very jolly birthday boy Steve. Trivia time, kids - Jason Simon's uncle is none other than David Simon, creator of the HBO brilliance that is The Wire...so, Ladies, we have him to thank for McNulty and Stringer Bell...

Whilst loitering, I also spoke to the creator of a special silkscreen print for the show, Adam Pobiak. I've admired his work before (in fact, he laughed as Blondie and I had once gatecrashed his birthday bash), so I was more than happy to part with a few bob to be the proud owner of this:

Printed on really great quality brown paper (and you know how I love that), with plenty of swirling patterns, big hog bikes, horses, mushrooms - all my favourite stuff! You can see Adam's work here:

http://pobiak.com/

To summarise - believe I've seen my gig of the year, no kidding. Three Kings indeed.

(Postscript: I went to see Rangda the next night. A supergroup consisting of the individual talents of Ben "Six Organs" Chasny, Sir Richard Bishop and Chris Corsano. Went on my lonesome, got there just in time to see them set up and take the stage. And in parts - superb. And in other parts...well, erm...it was a bit of a racket. Little bit hit-and-miss for me. As discussed with Thee Sonic Assassin, "free jazz" might not quite be my thing. And after Dead Meadow the night before, maybe even Zep would have had a job on getting me going. Actually, strike that - that's just silly talk.)