The Bronx – a sure-fire way to beat the Blues.
These truly are black days. Cameron, all sweaty, one-arse cheek of a face has smugged his way into power, we’re trying our best to replicate Greece’s financial ruination and all we can hope for is that lanky crippled Manc muppet Rio lifts Silvio Gazzaniga‘s golden trophy to momentarily bandaid all our ills.
Pass me an ipad, I need to one-finger punch my spleen on tweeter.
Guess no-one filled in Matt Caughthran, perpetual sporter of beaming smile and cuddly swagger, of our dire straits.
Truth is, doubt he’d give one. He’s too wrapped up in pinching his own consciousness – ‘It’s nights like this that average guys like us – guys with drug problems, women problems, alcohol problems, religion problems, just problems – realise how thankful we are to be able to travel the world and do what we really wanna do…‘
What they do, is rip it up. Tonight, myself, Sean, Chris and a whole bunch of folk gathered on the second tier of the steps in the Masque act as bowling alley human sausages – one hand steadying our pints, the other cushioning wave after wave of flying bodies as The Bronx pummel like a coked up bison on steds.
Where Pulled Apart By Horses only went 50% to bringing the power, The Bronx have honed their muscle with unrelenting touring and a precision sonic battering ram which sees us three sloshed pints down and at least three crowd members in need of nurse Fanny.
The yang to their yin arrived earlier with El Mariachi Bronx – wishing we could hire them out for a BBQ – they’d go down expertly under a marquee with the sun shining, a cool beverage and the smokey ribs crackling on the griddle. Wonder if they recession discounts?
The Bronx set:
2. Transsexual Blackout
3. I Got Chills
4. Past Lives
5. White Tar
6. Pleasure Seekers
7. Shitty Future
8. Rape Zombie
9. Six Days A Week
10. White Guilt
12. False Alarm
13. History’s Stranglers
14. Heart Attack American
Photographs courtesy of Sakura Zilla