15 minute read
Washing Machine Dave Hammond reports on the live event’s 10th Anniversary Bash at The Hunter Club in Bury St Edmunds.
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Ten Year Cycle Proves Inspirational!
Live review by Dave Hammond.
Washing Machine is the name given to the live events promoted at The Hunter Club in Bury St Edmunds and hosted by the irrepressible Seymour Quigley, former member of John Peel favourites, Miss Black America, and another critically acclaimed band, Horse Party. On Saturday, I was lucky enough to attend a sold-out, all-day event held to celebrate its tenth anniversary, a minor miracle considering the history behind live music in the relatively sleepy Suffolk town, known more for its sugar factory and ‘The Pillar of Salt’ - thought to be the country’s first internally illuminated road sign - than being a centre of Rock ’n’ Roll excellence.
Back in 1978, The Clash rocked up to play a gig in the town, which resulted in what was perhaps over dramatically described as riots in the street. The result: live music was banned from the town for the next twenty years or so, until an enterprising local councillor, encouraged by a thriving young skateboard fraternity, called for and assisted the set-up of the Bury Sound music competition, which is still held annually at The Hunter Club. Since then, the scene has gradually grown, producing a number of bands that have gone on to relative success, garnering excellent reviews and national radio exposure. Washing Machine has been a key part of that journey for the last ten years, providing a safe event space for bands to perform and fans to enjoy in an all-inclusive environment.
The Hunter Club itself consists of two stages and a separate bar area. The smaller arena is generally standing only, the audience being within touching distance of the performers, creating a wonderful atmosphere. The second, larger stage is used for standing only gigs or seated, café style events. For the purpose of this event however, the smaller stage was converted into an intimate, seated only venue for the acoustic acts that benefited from such a setting, with seating removed for the more upbeat performers. The larger arena had a second stage set up at the opposite end of the hall to the main stage, enabling a quick turn-around of bands, just enough time for the MC to thank the band that’s just been playing before welcoming the next band on the stage opposite. You watch a band, swivel through 180 degrees and watch another. Across the three stages, this allowed in excess of thirty bands to perform. At ten pound a head, it was incredible value.
I actually missed the first couple of hours of the event, due to the usual Rock ’n’ Roll issues of doing the shopping and sorting out the kids. However, I did get there in time to catch Study of Us, a manic and acrobatic solo artist whose energy and presence brought to mind a more approachable and cuddly Keith Flint. He utilised his laptop to good effect, producing some industrial strength
beats and smart looping while playing keyboards and oddly, bearing in mind the Techno / Electronica base for many of his songs, acoustic guitar. There was humour in the songs and some audience participation which involved him perching precariously on a keyboard stand which he assured us was only designed to withstand a weight two stone below his own. He clearly enjoyed performing in a manner where things (including himself) could literally come crashing down at any moment and the audience thoroughly appreciated it.
Smiling to myself, I headed to the smaller stage to see Belinda Gillett, a singer / songwriter from Felixstowe who I was watching for the second time in a month. Seated with her acoustic guitar, she slipped off her trainers and slipped into her first song. There were one or two issues with a non-compliant guitar and an elbow recovering from a recent sprain during the first song, but she brushed this off with a bit of banter with friend, manager and MC for the smaller stage, Matt Carter. I’ve written many words about Belinda and will continue to do so as long as she’s performing and writing. At times her playing has the same timeless drift as Nick Drake’s, though it’s when she sings that time can actually stand still. From a barely whispered lyric that can swirl gently through the still atmosphere to the seemingly effortless, full-throated holding of a syllable whose sound waves fill every corner of the room. There’s a natural warmth and emotional edge that holds your attention, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a rare beauty that can make the eyes moist. I kid you not when I say her voice stands comparison with greats such as Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez, Sandy Denny and Emmylou Harris - it has that same natural, unforced quality they possess. To be honest, she could sing the latest report from the Office of National Statistics and it would leave me awestruck. There’s some engaging talk too, giving background and substance to some of the song’s meanings, many of which are relevant to her own life and relationships. And there’s the odd flash of dark humour to balance the light, as when she explained the writing of a song about her father, who hadn’t taken any interest in her life and had suddenly got in touch to tell her he had a terminal illness. The song was called ‘Fuck’ and summed up her immediate thoughts on handling the situation. All being well, there’ll be an album from Belinda in 2022.
After a short break to socialise, visit the loo and grab a beer, I headed back to the main stage to catch one of the best live outfits in East Anglia, For the Hornets. I’ve seen them perform three times and they just get better. Singer Adz Queenie Bond is a born frontman, commandeering the stage wearing a slinky red dress with a personality that demanded attention. His energetic and engaging presence is matched by a tight rhythm section that included a stylish bassist whose feet are so far apart he’s nearly doing the splits. Contrarily, guitarist Gabby Deth held his guitar at chest height as he provided chunky, punky, choppy riffs while prowling the stage like Wilko Johnson’s less intense little brother. Some wag next to me quipped that they looked like a band thrown together from two different groups while agreeing they were a phenomenal live proposition. Apart from some high-quality originals, they also threw in an unexpected, high-octane, crowd-pleasing cover of ‘Everybody, yeah, yeah’ by Backstreet Boys (‘Backstreet’s Back’, 1997).
Regularly gigging in the East Anglia area, they’re well worth catching live. Next up, on the opposite stage, were possibly the heaviest duo I’ve ever witnessed, Kulk. To say Thom plays guitar and sings while Jade plays drums is understating it somewhat. Thom wrung every ounce of sonic energy from each chord he played which, bearing in mind the time warping intensity of his playing means it appeared they rarely achieved more than four chords every ten seconds, is a skill in itself. Barefooted, he seemingly struck some martial arts pose while executing each burst of sound. When singing, he approached the microphone from an angle, and like it’s his worst enemy, strained forward before unleashing his fury upon it. Jade barely looked up from beneath her mass of blonde hair as she pulverised her drum kit, each blow rendered as though it might be her last. In keeping with her cohort’s chord count, the beats per second is very low, even in fractions. There was also some weird ambient noise going on at the intro and mid-section of some songs, enough, I imagine, to make you think you’ve stumbled into the UFO Club circa 1967. It was fuzzy, Psychedelic and seriously heavy, slowed down to a pace even I could move to. They also showed a quite endearing side at the end with a simple “Thanks. Goodbye. Sorry”, before leaving stage. The debut album, ‘We Spare Nothing’, has just been released through their Bandcamp page and is well worth investigation.
Things were a little hazy at this stage, and I may have sought a quiet refuge for a while before returning to the main stage to catch The Daze, a teenage post punk band from the town. The band have been under the tutelage of Queens Road School of Rock for the last couple of years or so and are an unbridled joy to watch. There’s a youthful zest and energy about them that belies the edgy songs and lyrics. Stage-front, they have two vocalists who, bearing in mind their tender years, are not short on charisma and stage craft. Albert’s stage movements are a mix of bouncing and prowling while the charismatic Flo, with her cropped hair and permanent grin, elicits a rare combination of ‘don’t mess with me’ and ‘I’m having the time of my life’. Musically, they’re more than solid with an early- ‘80s post Punk sound and a drummer who provides another focal point with the intensity of his playing. If they continue to develop as they have over the past couple of years, they’ll be worth following.
The notes in my A7 pad were now becoming less informative, relying on hastily scribbled keywords which I hoped to decipher when typing up this review. It’s worth saying at this point that the event was running remarkably smoothly for a three-stage performance venue utilising three sound desks and 30-odd bands with the added complication of a well-used bar. The whole place was refreshingly ego free as everyone pulled in the same direction. Credit to the MCs and all the staff involved who kept it this way for the duration of the day. They were a well-oiled machine, while I was merely getting well oiled. The inevitable, but minor, down side for me was missing several acts due to timing clashes.
Next up on the opposite stage came the Glitter Shop, a band who describe their sound as Cowboy Shoegaze which, if it included keyboard / guitar driven songs that sometimes chimed and shimmered and other times possessed a New Order drive and rhythm coupled with the laid back delivery of early Pavement, is absolutely spot on. Regular Washing Machine / Hunter Club soundman Barny Cutter was unchained from the desk and provided the colour to the songs with some fluid guitar. Vocal duties were shared between Ruby and Harry with the latter providing the visual focal point of the band with some quirky moves that at times verged on a less intense Ian Curtis, matching some of the more potent songs in their repertoire. That he carried off dressing in a frilly shirt and early-’70s style
pinstripe suit with impressive flares and wide lapels (something I couldn’t do myself in the ‘70s) was quite impressive. Think ‘Department S’ era Peter Wyngarde when it comes to sartorial elegance. There was a balance to their performance and an edgy energy which was really satisfying.
Seeking refuge from the mainstage, I headed off to the acoustic stage to catch Matt Reaction, aka Matt Carter aka MC for the acoustic stage aka Delicate Management aka all round good guy. Matt is a purveyor of songs that, lyrically, are full of charm and wit with nods to local bands, including fellow performers on the day, Belinda Gillett and Gaffa Tape Sandy. ‘Thrilled Beyond Biscuits’ is probably self-explanatory while ‘What the 90s Taught Me’ is tongue in cheek and references several more well-known artists. There was plenty of banter with the audience between and during songs, which gave the performance a spontaneous feel. Matt left it all on stage with an enthusiastic and manic performance utilising backing tracks, guitar and his slightly eccentric stage persona. It all gave the impression that anything could go wrong at any time, but hey, what the hell. If there’s another artist around that I could compare his performance to, it would be John Otway.
Still grinning, I went to catch recent Bury Sound competition winners, Fleas on the mainstage. This felt like a celebration of the win, an adoring audience lapping up everything the band threw at them. Their brand of Punky Metal with the odd Rap thrown in is performed by a band that are clearly enjoying themselves and at times look slightly in awe of the adulation heading their way. Front man Pedro is a force of nature, spending as much time off stage as on, engaging with and whipping up the audience. The band are also confident enough to perform something akin to a Metal ballad where the audience are encouraged to sit or squat before the song’s inevitable change in gear, releasing everyone to leap up in unison with Pedro. I look forward to hearing whatever they record in the hope it captures their live sound.
Back to the acoustic stage for a non-acoustic performance from Collars, a duo that have recently released an excellent debut EP, ‘Everything Present 1’. Kane plays guitars and a specially modified drum kit while Danielle sings, plays keyboards and generally owns the stage. Visually, they’ve developed an
unusual kind of hipster chic look which is part catwalk, part circus entertainer. Musically, there’s plenty of choppy, rhythmic guitars and changes in tempo which make it easy to move to but difficult to pin their sound down to any genre, though whatever it is would probably be preceded by ‘idiosyncratic’. Idiosyncratic Indie Art Pop Funk perhaps? Like a mutant mix of the B52s and The White Stripes. On stage, they’re both focal points for different reasons. Impressively, Kane played his guitar and drums at the same time - guitar with hands, drums with feet. Danielle was constantly on the move, either walking the stage back and forth, thrusting herself forward or arching back, mic cupped close to her mouth before pirouetting around during the instrumental passages.
And on to the main arena and the headliners on each stage. First up were Fightmilk, relative veterans with a handful of EPs and a couple of well received albums behind them. They’re a well drilled and energetic live proposition, but what sets them apart from many other bands in the Indie Rock arena is their droll sense of humour, touching on the odd side of relationships (songs about prominent front teeth, ex-boyfriends with bad tattoos, etc) and contagious songs. On stage, there’s an offbeat chemistry between singer Lily and guitarist Alex while having an immensely cool looking bassist also helps with the stage image. I was reminded at one point of the infectious charm of late-’70s bands The Rezillos or Radio Stars, while one song opened like Wreckless Eric’s ‘Whole Wide World’ (‘Wreckless Eric’, 1978), which endeared them to me even more.
Bury St Edmund’s very own Gaffa Tape Sandy closed proceedings on the night, though illness almost scuppered their plans, with guitarist / co-vocalist Kim seemingly getting through the gig on adrenaline alone. I for one am pleased he managed to make it. The trio have released several singles / EPs and garnered much praise for their gritty garage rock over the last four years or so. Vocals are shared between the very tall Kim and quite petite Catherine, while medium sized Robin plays drums. There’s an attack in their playing and, in particular, the vocals, which marks them out as genuine contenders. The songs, particularly the ones from the ‘Family Mammal’ EP (2019), are strong and were performed with a joie de vivre that closed out the evening in a celebratory fashion, the mosh pit sweatily and enthusiastically acclaiming their heroes. Including a rabble-rousing version of ‘Folsom Prison Blues’ by Johnny Cash (‘Johnny Cash and His Hot and Blue Guitar’, 1957) was unexpected but fitted perfectly with the general feel of the whole event. After a stop start return to gigging over the last 18 months, it was a life affirming end to the evening.
It seems churlish to level any sort of
criticism at the whole event, but if I had one quibble, it would be that I didn’t get to see more bands, highlighting the depth of talent in the area not to mention the pulling power of Washing Machine and The Hunter Club. As is the tradition at a Washing Machine gig, it was left to Seymour Quigley to bring the event to a close, thanking all involved in his inimitable manner. What he has achieved, with the help of others who have been swept along in a self-perpetuating wave of enthusiasm, is nothing short of astounding and long may it last. It seems appropriate to close this review with the words of the man himself, delivered in stentorian fashion with the belief and integrity with which, without a shadow of doubt, it was intended (with apologies if the interpretation of my hastily scribbled notes have missed anything): “If you want to write a song, If you want to write a book, If you want to write some poetry, If you want to write a play, Then just do it. There are people here who can help you achieve whatever you want to do, because, when the world’s going shit, what do we do? We do something that isn’t shit!” Amen to that.
Page 138: Host Seymour Quigley.
www.facebook.com/ washingmachineclubnight
One of the shining lights in making The Hunter Club click is the Venue Manager, Sara Kathleen. Originally from Indiana, which she describes as really quite boring (and she doesn’t want to go back there), she’s been resident in East Anglia for a number of years. A few years ago, her dearest and best friend, Andy took his own life. This had a deep effect on Sara, as it has with thousands of other people who have survived loved ones committing suicide. Andy was passionate about two things in life - chips and making guitars. In memory of Andy, Sara is aiming to raise money for HOPE, a charity that supports those grieving after suicide. As Sara says, “Grieving
a suicide is a unique, non-linear, misunderstood, and often unsupported type of grief that an awful lot of us carry around in our hearts every single day”.
There will be an event at The Hunter Club in Bury St Edmunds on 7th January 2022 to raise money, but there will also be a raffle to win a guitar hand built by Andy. Sara, who is also a talented pyrography artist, has the guitar and is creating a unique, one-off design as the prize. Videos of her creating the design can be found on her Facebook page and more details about buying raffle tickets can be found on her website.
