Their bassist was singing through some kind of echo box. Some songs reminded me of rockabilly. I didn’t know what that girl meant when she called them pop.
Whereas Orb was essentially DJ-ing a club, the brothers were playing a rock ‘n’ roll show. They worked the crowd like it was just another knob on the board.
Sure, to the uninitiated, The Crowns are merely pepped up Stray Cat Strutters, but perhaps they will lead the masses toward the salvation sounds of rockabilly.
Rollins Band had a hard act to follow in Skunk Anansie. Skin compels you to watch her, her motions intriguing, falling somewhere between sinewy and robotic.
Vast waves of eerie sound. It was minor, moody, and slow, rather sensual. I began to daydream vividly, picturing a forest, two lovers, a cold spring morning.
The set improved drastically midway through when Mick Brown (vocals) wailed out “Disgusted,” which exemplifies his repulsion with his life, music, and mind.
The singer’s got kinda a Marilyn Monroe thing going on, but it doesn’t take long for the bratty Drew Barrymore sneer to appear to warm the hearts and cockles.