King Salami and The Cumberland Three don’t just tear it up: they set the goddamn thing on fire. In terms of sound, it’s a bit like Link Wray meets Motörhead. The band’s borne of punk origins, but they play a red-hot blend of exotica, ‘60s garage, rockabilly, rock‘n’roll and surf guitar, and everything’s dished up with a side serve of The Cramps.
If that floats your boat, it’d be a travesty not to see them live – they’re effing wild. King Salami channels Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and spends a lot of time on the floor winding up the crowd – audience participation is mandatory (everyone ends up on their knees at one point during the encore) and there’s a heap of call and response. At one point snake-hipped hep cat Salami directs that we come closer. “Scream with me,” he roars and we do. Later he says to some Betty that he’s “gonna scratch your back and make you growl like a tiger,” and she does too. On the topic of growling, Salami would give Eartha Kitt a run for her money.
The Cumberland Three are normally four, but tonight we were missing Pepe Ronnie. They’re all so good to watch. Eric Baconstrip, the drummer, is dressed like a psychedelic lodge master, replete with fez and crazy glasses. Salami tells us that he’s been crook, but you wouldn’t know because Baconstrip drives the shit out of the set.
The bassist, Kamikaze UT is a Japanese punk rocker, dressed western swing style – it’s knackering just watching the dude’s levels of hyperactivity. Johnny Pastrami, on lead guitar, is dressed for the rodeo and plays like Dick Dale.
It’s almost impossible to pick crowd faves because every song was met with a frenzy, but the punk, hillbilly, surfin’ number Yosemite Sam and Less Bone More Meat took the cake for ours.
The audience is a kooky mixed bag – as you’d expect, there’s a rockabilly contingent, but there’s also a lot of the nine-to-five crew. They start out looking bewildered but end up having a fat old time. Ultimately, the crowd’s a seething mass and the go-go girls are put through their paces.
BY MEG CRAWFORD
Loved: So many dudes dancing in earnest.
Hated: Nothin’. Tonight was wall-to-wall smiles.
Drank: Diet coke.
