Last night we went to see The Aesthetics at The Adelaide. It was lots of fun. I drank way too much beer. I enjoyed seeing Matt Middeleton play live as Crude. He's pretty entertaining. I hated the saxophone though. I really really hate noodly sax playing. It's just a thing of mine. It doesn't matter how much people improvise and how much they experiment. It still sounds like a sax. Must have been too much Kenny Gee on the radio in the 80s or something. Anyways, there were a couple of girls who played some really great garagey rock who go by the name of Newtown. They were lots of fun. Lots of power and plenty of balls. I thought they were pretty neat. Nice growly vocals. And yelling not screaming. Zombie Fuck were up next, and they sound good till the screeching vocals start. I wasn't big on that. I don't think I want to see them again. I've seen them once before at Happy and was not keen then either. Well there ya go. You can't like everything. Sorry if you read this, Zombie Fuck. I'm sure you've got your followers.
The Aesthetics were just great. Lots of energy, plenty of people up dancing. Matt Middleton has heaps of mad energy on the stage.
Here's what they have to say about themselves on their website: "Our mission : to keep the moronic in vogue, in focus. To apply our kollective learnings to the infantile and primitive ritual/release that is punk rock, to render the stupid the highest peak of aesthetic life, of life itself. To strip back the layers of self-deception and self-betrayal that is the everyday, the brattish hubub of late modern capitalism and , assisted by all types of poisons, brandish our musical weapons with ugly, stupid, turbulent simplicity. We , the Aesthetics : obviously boys, stupid men, drunk, in trance, yelping and stuffing down food offerings, pissing profits away, we activate a new, deep subconcious stream and , through our group ritual, keep new zealand on it's feet. For if these artists, these madmen, were to be denied their right to performance, the cancer that is 'straight' new zealand society would metastasize exponentally. 'Real men', all hair-product and credit, would wake up one gray morning, pick up a knife, and murder with android indifference. We keep this country on it's feet. We realize and heal these repressed subconcious collective evils bursting at the seams of the 'real world' through our music/ritual. All for no reward. Perhaps a strained, guilty half-smile from a city counsellor. WE ROCK. WE ROCK ON. WE ROCK ON . ONWARD - INTO OUR 30S. OUR 4OS."
It's a shame Pumice was on in the same night. I would have liked to have gone to that gig too. Always a bummer when they coincide.