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You may know The Sleaford Mods for parodying the queens Christmas speech late last year. You may have heard it in passing. You may even hate them and believe me they hate you just as much.
Their total disregard for mainstream approval mixed with the D.I.Y nature of their makes for an invigorating and completely unique act which rattled the opaqueness of our average Tuesday night.
The legendary Kazimier played host to our brothers from Nottingham who have openly described their collaboration as “electronic munt minimalist punk-hop rants for the working class”. Yet, people from all backgrounds lined the balconies and the predominantly middle aged crowd swigged on crisp lager while the likes of Clash guitarist Mick Jones mingled with Echo and the Bunnymen’s Will Sargent in the corner. It was testament to the momentum which Sleaford Mods have gathered.
First up was local band Sugar Men who took to the stage to open the night. The band had great energy and desire yet their sound wasn’t astounding. There were many gaps of silence in the song which the drummer
had to work to fill in. There seemed to be a conventional structure that was followed accordingly within each of their songs.
However, their final song called “This is my life and it’s alright” was impressive. The concoction of sonic riffs and anti-establishment pros made for quite a head-nodder.
Overall, the band is still young and has time to improve but they have worked too much upon their style and not their substance.
After a much liberating trip to the bar we found ourselves up on a vantage before the start of the next band.
The Kazimier is a place of wonderment, almost like a mecca for the Liverpool music scene and it’s easy on the eyes. The amount of stairs reminded us of the painting Relativity by M. C. Ersher, which is an allusion.
The next band was not. Ellesmere Port band, Hooton Tennis Club came on rather calm and collected. The crowd was cradled in their arms and they just dropped us on our head. They started with a song titled “Back to you” which sounded like an evolution of ‘shoegaze’ with a psychedelic like of paint. The guitarist stumbled incoherently as his speakers produced colour for the ears.
Their movement was great and the energy translated to the audience who smiled with appreciation. The band rattled through a few more in what can only be described as an explosion of ‘New Garage’. The band announced the next song as “And Camilla Drew 14 Dots On Her Knee”. The two boys sang in harmony: “She takes it easy, she’s effortless”. The Movement kept a going, and a wave of euphoria had struck the venue.
They later announced their first single ‘Jasper’ which has been released on local record label, Heavenly Records. This is a song which deals with a passing of a relative yet the beat and melody is positive in nature. We respected that notion.
The band kicked loudly into another song and finished by mutilating the whammy pedal. Ears were ringing and eyes were stinging. I went outside to catch some fresh air and I felt eagerly impressed. Their feel good waves of new garage felt like the shiny diamond poking out of the avalanche. Definitely one to watch.
Upon our return to towards the crowd we struggled to manoeuvre .The Kazimier was in full capacity and you could feel it stretching. We found an area of comfort and waited patiently for the onslaught of vulgarity which was about to come.
The people wanted truths and the Mods wanted a riot.
The two-piece walked on stage to a committed reception. The producer Andrew Fearn placed his three Peroni’s down by the stacked crates which balanced his laptop. Sporting a T-shirt with the logo for the Bulldog coffee shop in Amsterdam he clicked the left cursor and the speakers translated the relentlessly fast beats.
The crowd chanted Sleaford Mods and vocalist Jason Williamson casually walked on stage towards the microphone. There was a moment when the audience may have thought that he was going to miss the start of the bar but with a forward motion Jason shouted “Dr Dre those headphones are shit and they’re everywhere mate! Bunch of Cunts!”
Fearne sways in the back and laughs at the audacity of Williamson whose unflinching approach to vocalism is unparalleled. Williamson turns sideways and you can see his profile crease as he tenses his vocal chords. His hands gesture insanely while he hits his head in frustration. He finished his song and sarcastically nods to each section of the crowd while waving like royalty. His sarcasm is obvious and the crowd love it. Williamson wipes the sweat on to his shirt and says “Every fucker knows this one”. The Fuck count is gradually increasing to a healthy 15 right know and we are only into the third song.
The song “Jolly Fucker” penetrates the ears. The crowd motion with the beat; Fearne toasts with members of the crowd. Williamson sexually flicks his tongue at the hecklers. There was great back and forth abuse from the crowd and Williamson who seems to thrive of it.
A few songs down the list and social commentary ‘Mcflurry’ makes a mark. Wiliamson shouts “Boris Johnson and the Cheeky Girls shut down the underground”. The song mocks British culture and the stupidity of so called “cultural figures”. This is where The Mods are most prolific.
Williamson commentary is relentless and funny yet it is always true. Also, at this Fearne’s backing tracks feels crisp and really dominates each and every sense within the body. “Job Seeker” began to great applause. This is again a mockery of modern English culture which screams “England and Weetabix” in the same sentence . Yet, it makes you think which one is more important? Which one is more English?. Good breakfast for thought.
The Fuck count was hitting a good 85 by the latter third of the set and that didn’t include the innuendos which Williamson motioned at the crowd. The Mods said that this was their last song and boy did it count. Williamson strained in effort as he shouted “You’ve got to be able to sell yourself! So I stuck myself on Ebay! 25 quid mate!”
They are left to an ovation as he credited the crowd and the city. It was a humble act which was a complete contrast to the show. Yet, while the mods swear, drink and riot, they are far from stupid.
It’s completely unique. Almost like a hybrid 21st century John Cooper Clarke who was beaten with a punk record and Sleaford Mod’s are the mangled remains.
This is not a hate contest (yet they probably hate us for reviewing them in the first place) and for the conscious muse you will find great solitude in the raving rants of the Williamson. The Fuck count ended on a decent 124. However, there is no need to wash your ears with soap.