Music Reviews - The Cribs, 10000 Things and One Lick Less at The Adelphi Tuesday 4th May 04 Almost Shameless By Lee Cassanell

Tea is said to have been discovered in 2737 BC by a Chinese emperor when some tea leaves accidentally blew into a pot of boiling water, and although this sounds as absurd as a nude midget wrestling match in the middle of red square, apparently it's true. I went to see a band the other night at the Adelphi called the Cribs. It was either that or spend the evening making balloon animals and solving the mysteries of existence so I thought what the hell, live a little.

By the time I got there the place was already jammed packed with this new breed of Strokes clones who I assume get discount at the barbers if they go in groups of three. It was like a Toni & Guy bomb had exploded in the place seconds before I walked in, and although I'm not one to mock another person's choice of barnet I must admit that 10 minutes into the show the hairspray fumes where starting to get the better of me.

I did intend to do a full review of the gig, after all the NME had stated in it's increasingly toilet paper worthy pages that the cribs where one of the best new bands on the circuit and me being the kind of person who believes almost everything he reads I decided that this would be a great opportunity to flex my pen in the presence of musical royalty. The first band (Who I assume where One Lick Less or possibly the Blueskins, maybe even 10,000 things) where a bunch of likely lads playing songs that The Hives might have put on the B-side to one of their singles if they'd spent the night before injecting Absinthe into their necks and hitting each other over the head with oversize garden trowels.

They were not bad, they did a nice cover of The Velvet Underground's Waiting for my Man before they decided to go all Thrash Metal on my ass, but it was nothing original and by the time they'd closed the set I'd contemplated suicide at least twice. The next band (Who I assume where the Others or possibly 10,000 things, maybe even the BlueSkins) reminded me of The Streets but with guitars instead of decks.

The drumming was lively, the bassist just the right side of funky, you never had a god damn clue what the vocalist was singing about until he got to the chorus but I suppose if you like jumping up and down at the front of the audience, wearing a mock Sergeant Pepper jacket, it was the best thing since the George Foreman grill. I reckon if I'd have had a few more Gin and Tonics inside me I would have enjoyed them more than I did.

By the time the Cribs took the stage I was being distracted by a slightly attractive brunette who had been edging closer to me for the last 15 minutes. She had finally plucked up the courage to gyrate her pert bottom into my crotch when the band kicked off their set.

I gave the lady my excuses (something to do with leprosy I think it was) and moved to the front of the crowd hoping to get a birds eye view of this new Hot band I had heard so much about. To fully explain the horror that proceeded I would have to use an array of expletives that the editors of this fair website would justifiably censor, though I think it's necessary and important that I should use the word Shit at least once as I believe that one single word can sum up the bands entire performance.

Maybe I'm being harsh. The music was catchy and well played but they were unbelievably boring, just another average white band who've been listening to the Libertines and tooting crack pipes until the wee small hours when they should have been sinking Jack Daniels and digging out the White Stripes. The powers that be at NME must be running low on methadone because if these boys are the next big thing I pray for a nuclear holocaust or at the very least the return of the Black Death. Why one of the biggest music magazines in the country is wasting precious page space promoting this kind of shabba is beyond me and as they started their fourth song I was already on my way out of the door.

After such a disappointing gig I felt my only option was to go home, sprawl on the sofa with a light ale and watch a bit of mindless television. I'd already decided this New Rock scene had as much future as an asthmatic mayfly when the a video from a band calling themselves The Zutons flickered on to my dusty screen. Now I'm not a religious man, but for a brief moment I felt the presence of a higher power. It was as though some supreme being had felt my lapse of musical faith and in the blink of an eye decided to restore it.

The song You will you won't is the best thing I've heard this year so far, a psychedelic stomp with a beat so disgustingly catchy that it burns the eyes, lungs and throat. Okay so the video goes all Al Jolson towards the end but for the first two minutes it's as funky as Al Green on acid, a marvellous blend of late 60's retro and modern cool. You can find a clip from the video at the link below: http://www.video-c.co.uk/showvids.asp?vidref=thez003

Anyway, I'm off to watch the legendary Cracktown and Ten Men treat the salivating George crowd to another round of dirty licks and classic covers, Until next time readers remember, not everything you read is true. Except for the Tea thing of course. Many Thanks

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