Gascan Ruckus - Auntie Annies, Belfast - March 29th
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Gascan Ruckus, Strait Laces, Jamie Neish
Auntie Annieās, Belfast
29th March 2012
Look outside ā chances are the length and the breadth of the country is still experiencing something of an early summer heatwave. As they would say back home, the craicās ninety and, so far as today is concerned, thereās seems to be no better way to rejoice and act the collective eejit than at ās first headline slot in Belfast since the release of their Vitamins EP in October last year. Exciting times, no doubt, but with material both old and absolutely brand spanking new at their disposal, will there be any visible musical progression for the Armagh four-piece?
Continuing to carve out subtle acoustic tales all on his lonesome, the choice of More Than Conquerorsā drummer as an opener tonight may initially seem a little misjudged. But while his placid approach is ultimately the antithesis of whatās yet to come, the keen response from tonightās crowd reveals the dazzling efforts of a truly versatile songwriter. Somewhere between the heartfelt jauntiness of āBelly of the Beastā, the Nashville twang of the aptly-titled āSickness In The Sunshineā and set closer āMy Lungs Donāt Breatheā, Neish proves that, although there are quite a few solo musicians in this country going for the āfragile but positively determinedā angle, he manages to command a brand of subtle storytelling faring as charming as his offhand banter throughout.
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With a quick changeover underway, much of tonightās crowd meekly make their way to the front of the stage at Auntie Annieās ā standard protocol in advance of local riffmasters general and/or the slightest prospect of an impromptu, good-natured scuffle. Right on cue, then, are North Coast schiz-punk three-piece , whose frantic Drop-D attacks are immediately felt via the first airing of the bandās new split single with Hornets, āBreak Their Crutchesā. With an almost psychobilly lead guitar line and a particularly pummelling rhythm section, it exposes yet more intrepid progression from Dave Hanna and co ā progression rooted in the likes of the riff-laden āChariotsā and āGuiltshakeā, the latter tuneās brilliantly bobbing verse at the mercy of several rampaging interludes across a thoroughly fierce five minutes. Righteous stuff.
But, as is fast becoming the Word, with their incredibly judged blend of raucous punk rock and compact classic rock (the good stuff ā not Whitesnake), are a band truly on the cusp of really going places. Not entirely unlike Jamie Neish, while thereās no shortage of local comparisons to their approach in general, these four guys possess a singular, head-turning sound that cannot go unnoticed. While new material in āBread and Butterā and āPiecesā condense what theyāre all about, itās an especially furious rendition of āDonāt Fretā that typifies their plan of action best tonight: frenzied riffage, gang-like backing vocals and one catchy-as-hell chorus. Better still, more than any of their tracks, old or new, it reveals frontman Micky Woodsā increasingly incensed drawl Ć la LaFaroās Jonny Black and Gascanās ridiculously well-honed blitzkrieg. Ending on recent single āVitaminsā, thereās a definite sense that the future of this band is extremely bright ā whether the awesome weather remains so is a totally different matter altogether.
Brian Coney
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